[Mia cannot remember the last time she felt so...comforted. It has been a while, an impossibly long while. The snowy fog in her head continues to clear, a bit faster with each minute that passes. Opening and closing her hands as the last of the pins-and-needles feeling disappears, Mia finally lifts her head again. She does not wear a smile, but she looks relieved enough that it might almost be one.]

We're not supposed to cry in front of people, because they depend on us to believe everything will be all right. To not worry and not be afraid. When that bomb went off- [In her mind, one hand reaches to grasp someone's shirt, tight, while she whispers how sorry she is and holds her breath; in the present, that breath hitches, and the echo of nothingness makes her shiver.] I didn't know what to do afterward. I have never been so afraid, even when we were going to face Alex.

[Her voice catches on a dry and worn throat, but after a solid cough she shakes her head.] Maybe I have forgotten...how to be a friend, like this.