"That must be nice. I meant--my friend back home told me I should get therapy. Not for this--for um--for something else. But I never felt like I could quite yet." Persephone is far away, mentally, wrapping her fingers in strands of hair as she takes the steps, stumbling over a loose end but not quite tripping.

"Were yours--was yours horrible?" She looks up at him, unsure, "Mine and my--memory partner, I guess you could call it? Both of ours were about the worst days in our lives."