[Brady takes a seat near her, on his bed, an inverse of their conversation a little over a week ago. In lieu of his own comfort, Sharpedo, who can tell this conversation has gotten a little heavy, bumps his nose against Mack's knee. Mental note to thank Sharpedo; he's still not sure if she'd appreciate his hand on her shoulder.

Nothing like a heart-to-heart with a six foot shark as a guest, right?]

I'm sorry. [...] I... I don't think, in that... In our memories. For one reason or another, I don't think you'd realized that yet.