"This room hasn't been touched or disturbed in seven years," Amanda spoke.
Ianto saw how Amanda struggled with her wishes to tidy up the room and neatly fold one of Joseph's old shirts which was still left hanging on the back of a chair were he had left it , but at the same time she wanted to keep the memory of her son intact.
She made a promise to herself the day he died never to touch or move anything in here.
"Except once," Amanda added. "The day he got out of prison. The day he died."
Again, Amanda struggled, only this time to stop herself from crying in front of the investigators.
Her long, blonde, untidy hair looked even paler in the light which shined through the big, attic window.
"What is Torchwood exactly?" Amanda suddenly asked, through her fit of sadness as she turned her face to Ianto and Gwen, who was cradling her sore wrist.
For an old man, dying and crippled man John Lumic 's grip around Gwen's wrist had been strong and painful.
She had told him she couldn't say anything, or share any information about the investigation with the public, not yet.
"This is an official Torchwood investigation…" Gwen had said.
"Surely no man can return from the dead!" John Lumic had said to her. "Please, mrs. Williams! I only want the truth!"
The grip around her wrist tightened, forcing Gwen to make a decision.
"Mr. Lumic," she had said to him.
She could hear the stairs creak as Ianto followed Amanda upstairs, holding his cup of coffee in his hand, trying not to spill it across the rug.
"What?" Ianto asked, not hearing Amanda's question.
He was gazing around the room, looking at the posters of movies and rock-bands and the photograph of a smiling girl with a milkshake in her hands.
"What is Torchwood?" Amanda asked.
Ianto swallowed.
If he had said 'Torchwood' was the name of a new Chinese restaurant which had only recently opened its doors in Cardiff, he wouldn't be lying; it had been his idea and Jack loved it.
"We're a special team of investigators," Ianto answered casually, still smiling as he thought of the restaurant.
Amanda thought of Joseph, the funeral she did not witness, her son Ben and Abigail, stuck in the city, begging for answers.
She had never heard of Torchwood before.
"What do you investigate?" Amanda asked.
Ianto glanced at the ceiling for a split second.
"Stuff," he answered cheerfully.
Amanda was confused by that answer, but her thoughts were cut off as Gwen stepped towards the bed and looked at her.
"How did Joseph die?"
She wasn't prepared for that question; she pulled herself together to answer Gwen.
She looked so much older as she stood by the window, bathing in broad daylight.
"I still call it his death," Amanda said with difficulty, and Gwen couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for her. "but I don't know if I can still call it that, knowing he's back.
"Maybe the doctors made a mistake," Amanda went on hopefully. "Maybe they missed something, maybe he never died! I've read about those experiences were someone is put into a coma and the doctors start cutting, thinking he's unconscious, but in fact they feel everything!"
She turned to Gwen and Ianto for support.
"There could have been no way of telling he was alive! Couldn't that have happened?"
She clung to them, hoping to find any sign of hope in their expression, but all she found was sadness and silence.
Again Gwen could feel the pain in her wrist as if Mr. Lumic was still holding her hand.
"I asked you a question, Mrs. Williams," he said to her.
A sudden draft coming from the open kitchen door caused a few pamphlets to ascend from the pile and float through the air.
"I don't know what you want to hear, Mr. Lumic!" Gwen had said to him after Ianto and Amanda had gone upstairs.
The old man sat in the wheelchair, his face was pale and his eyes were big; his mouth was half open as he took a deep breath.
Lies were spinning so fast in Gwen's head it frightened her.
"The truth is all I want!" he had said to her. "It is all a dying man needs!"
"Mr. Lumic, would you please let go of my hand!" Gwen cried.
John Lumic gazed at Gwen as if she had just told him he would soon lose the ability to use his hands, just like he had lost his legs as well.
He had loosened his grip and Gwen pulled her painful wrist out of the old man's hand.
His big eyes were asking for answers, for hope, but Gwen had said nothing.
"I don't know, Mrs. Milton," Gwen said to Amanda as she stood in Joseph's room.
"I'm so sorry, but I don't know."
Every word she spoke poured out of her like blood.
She hated every word, ever sound, every syllable and letter.
Amanda started crying and she hugged Gwen, delving her tears into her shoulder.
"I'm so sorry," Gwen repeated softly, but Amanda didn't hear her.
"Please find my son," Amanda said.
A terrible cold spread across Gwen's spine as she held Mrs. Milton in her arms.
It had been awkwardly cold in Joseph's room the entire time, but what they were feeling right now, was something else.
Gwen glanced at Ianto, and by looking in his eyes she could tell he was feeling it too.