Imelda had never considered herself squeamish, but the sight of those bones leaves her feeling faint. The blanket slips from her hand, pooling on the floor, and she just barely finds a seat before her legs give out on her.

His words feel like they're coming from far away, even though he's right here next to her. She knows what he's asking of her is important. It's about Coco. But in that moment, she can't simply move past this like he seems to.

"When?" She asks after a moment. "Was it here? Or...?"