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Summary
Who takes care of us?
We are told that since human race has walked this sodomized earth, we have taken care of each other. It is inherently human to care for the wellness of the tribe. The family. That's what the family does. It takes care of us.
Not the Theerapanyakuls, however. Their form of taking care consists in dumping them into their hospital wing, the closer you are to the brothers the better the room. Big put himself between a gun and Porsche, his room has golden chandeliers and a velvet embroidered blanket. It was a solo room with floor to ceiling windows, that let the sunset paint oranges and purples on the otherwise white walls. He had been so miserable. Waking up there, a whole week after the incident, alone. No Kinn, no Porsche, no Ken. And no Chan.