She nods and busies herself with the plants again immediately just to give her hands something to do, fingers pushing into soil so they don't leap to touch or twist into her hair, plucking at curls.

"They could have." Gela can't say she doesn't think about them or remember their faces from time to time. It would be bad to forget them entirely, these people she knows nothing about and is deeply, horrifically linked to anyways, so she remembers on purpose. "But they may not be alive." One of them was very old. Another was very young.

Her expression doesn't shift even though she hesitates before she answers the next question. "I know his name. His whole name — he said it once aloud while we were still in the cages and I repeated it to myself many times to make sure I would know it." All for these few moments, perhaps? She's not sure what Cosima can do with it, but she can still know. "Ferrant Marais."