[Tim snorts, soft and desultory. It'd be cruel to pry, to demand: what do you remember? As if he would. It looked as though came as a shock to him, as much as it did to Tim, that Jay even had a sister in the first place. A reflex, like signing your name, muscle memory awakened and long-dark parts of the brain lighting up in a brief, instinctive flare that's gone just as quickly as it arrives.]

I think Mom was maybe...starting over, somewhere near the end. Seeing someone new. Moving. Starting fresh.

[Trying to have a kid that wasn't a broken fucking mess of hospital bills and medical insurance and pharmacological, chemical slurries trying to mend something that couldn't be mended.]

Didn't really see her much.