[Although Iris has only been on the barge about a month longer than Anya, the girl thinks of her as a fixture. She's always so dramatically, vivaciously present. It's a little stunning, to see her like this, much stranger than her madness when Creed killed Barbara. But Anya has watched much pillars much dearer to her than Iris crumble; she rallies, answers in a gentle murmur.]

I'm sorry. I've finally gotten him to stop pushing me away. It makes me pry less. Maybe I should have.

What happened in the memory flood?