The memories are just there. For whatever reason, that seems to sit with him.

"It's reaching about a year since the collapse." he admits. "Give or take."

His life as Gabri's father felt so distant compared to the hole he'd plunged himself into. Months of spiraling and winding tighter and tighter, shouldering the impossible, until he finally snapped. Until all he could see was red, and he nearly did something he couldn't take back. And then he ended up here.

Idly, Miguel wonders what Sims would call all this on the journey of processing loss. He refused to sit in his cohort's office for more than a few minutes to know for sure. Sharing this much with Dan was already veering into uncharted waters.

"Did it get any better after more time?"

It was only human to want to know.