“Our timelines diverged at some point in your past.” He sets his ice cream cup down neatly beside him on the bench. “I don’t know how far apart they actually are, and what happened in my world isn’t always transferable to yours.”

(Stalling. Clearly evasive.)

Why is it so hard to talk about this, six years later? He accepted it a long time ago. It’s fine. “Mom died when I was thirteen, and I already told you I don’t remember fighting the Reach.”

Janet Drake’s murder means that, if it’s their parents, Tim has at least a year’s more memories to contend with.