I don't know. It's — there's something affecting most of us, I think. It's harder for me to sense things. Before, I could do it without even having to think about it, and now —

[ Now, she has to practically tune out every other sense she has just to be able to use one; if she closes her eyes and tries not to listen to anything else, she can pick up on the scent of Sam in the other room, clothes that smell like salty seawater even now that they've mostly dried.

But the sound of Wanda's voice reels her back in and everything else fades into the background as she draws in a quiet breath. ] I didn't remember anything either. On the ship. I didn't remember anyone. It's... still a little muddled. In my head, I... I'm trying to sort through it all, but it's all twisted together. My memories.