Ty almost split his face in two when a yawn overtook him. His attempts at controlling it by putting his hand on his mouth--well, the yawn won.
"I'm goin' to bed early, bro," he said to the back of Raylay's headrest.
` "Alright," Raylay said. "See ya later."
For an instant, there was silence, until Relda spread her hand across the viewing screen.
"Why's there two Ozlas?" The question tumbled out of her.
Raylay's elbows dropped. His hands weakened against the steering.
"I told you we were twins," he confessed.
Relda leaned her ear against the headrest.
"You were--" She started.
"Triplets," Raylay confirmed with a curt nod. "Klea died three years ago. When we were thirteen. She and Ozla--well, they were identical twins inside the triplets. It happens. It's rare, but it happens."
Relda eyeballed the screen. The question nagged at her. It seemed awful, even taboo, to ask. Her curiosity took the best of her.
"What happened?" She asked.
A cinematographic picture took shape in her mind as the story tumbled out of Raylay.
A woman, a taller version of Ozla and Klea with silver in her hair, activated the kitchen storage units.
"We're out of plates," she relayed to the family.
"We've got a while," said Raylay's father. "I'm taking Raylay out to get his plasma-sword. We can get them on the way back."
"Can I go, Daddy?" Ozla chirped.
"Sure thing, dear."
"I'll go to the port," the triplets' mother said. "Klea, you coming?"
"Yes! I want to come."
There was a pause, and Raylay breathed into the quiet.
"The Master of our landmass wasn't happy about unauthorized use of currency," he said. "Their ship was gunned down six long-measures from the port."
He made a hard, fast gulp.
"What about you? Your family?"
Relda squared her shoulders. Her mind drifted to the talk with Scy, back at the tavern.
"There was a plague…" She began, planning out how to make it concise.