[Pen looks up into Freya's eyes, unable to mask the worry in her gaze. Her mind races, rolling over possibilities, bad ends, worst case scenarios...but the sudden look of recognition in her partner's gaze brings those to a screeching halt. Her fingers still hold tight, though considerably less than before. She's remembered...and that's a start.]

Yeah. My name is Penelope. [She bends her head, burying it against Freya's shoulder, rubbing her face against it and just letting herself breathe for a moment before she answers again.]

Here? Maybe...five minutes. In the city? I think you said you moved here when you were fourteen? Or somewhere around there. You're twenty two now. So, eight years.