But how would he know? Jess scolds herself for posing a stupid question, a criticism cut short by his precarious attempt to stand. Reflexively, she shoots to her feet and steadies him by the shoulders. When he doesn't sag or pitch forward, Jess lets go and opts not to sit back down until he does.

"When was the last time we saw each other?" she quizzes him intently. She caught his question, you know the one about death, but if it's unattributed to his drunkenness, all it does for her is rip open others wound of doubt and fear. (Obviously she's not dead, she's right here, but what fucked up series of circumstances would cause one arguably healthy person to ask another one that?) First, Jess wants to find out how much time she's missing, then she can work out what happened between then and now. Including how they met.