Every time someone went home before, they forgot it all. Frank — he told me that he didn't remember a single second of being in the city when he went back to his own world. Maybe —

[ She's speaking from behind closed eyes, her hands instinctively smoothing over Diana's upper arms, the contact soothing her too as she initiates it, slow and gentle stroking that sweeps down and then back up again. ]

Maybe the difference is that none of us are home this time. We're all somewhere else altogether. And that's what's allowed us to hold onto our memories. [ Her eyes flutter open and she sinks back down onto her heels, hands slipping to grip fingers around Diana's wrists. ]