"No," Elvis says, a short, dry laugh despite the subject he knows is at hand. It isn't something he thinks he's told anyone here, not Effy, not Caroline, not even Eden, who's easily the closest thing he has to family. Anabelle knew, but that was different, and she's gone now anyway. Reluctant though he typically is to talk about it, however, even with a mood that's better than he's grown accustomed to, he can't really find a reason to shy away from it. Effy's here, and he might as well let her know, especially with how close he's come to letting this particular piece of history repeat itself with him. "Everything kind of got turned on its head when I was twelve, a lot of what came before that is... hazy now, just bits and pieces of things."

He remembers what his mother looked like, moments caught on camera like the one with the kite she made that Anabelle found. The day to day, though, the mundane, that's mostly become a fog, maybe out of necessity. In her absence, with what became of his father, he couldn't dwell on that for long.