She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing the last of the tea. Her head hazes over with warmth. Jess was going to shrug him off, finding the physical comfort to be a bit much, on top of the blanket, but ends up grateful for his ministrations when a wave of nausea hits. Her vision fluctuates like a bad trip, the stories in the furniture and under the floorboards beating with hidden hearts. Jess remembers wandering up to the house the first time, crashing there for several nights before laying claim to it. She remembers choosing it over its twin in the other village, for and despite its proximity to Frank and Kamala.

"Holy shit," she mumbles, marvelling at how she could ever forget Kamala. If she reaches further back in her mind to how they met, it's too gauzy to grasp, indicating that her memories are filling in the most to lease recent. "It's coming back..."