Boba looks away when Miguel says Gabriella was orphaned.

And now she's dead. But her favorite things are here because Miguel remembers them-- remembers her.

He bites his lip.

"I have-- I've never done anything like this," he gestures to the ceremony. "But I do, um, remembrances? In the mornings?"

He and his dad always did them for his dad's family, and Boba's added a few names of his own since then.

"There's no ceremony or anything. But it's-- yeah."

He doesn't know how to talk about this. In prison, he learned to do them silently. No one liked to wake up to him muttering to himself.