[ The counselor smiles, leaning back on his desk, and for once does not reach for his nut bowl. ]

You don't remember going outside? To the park, to the library, home?

[ Because those sorts of memories are buried in there too, just as fuzzy and impossible as memories of high school life. There's memories of family, even, and those of, idk, cup scout groups or knitting clubs or something. ]

You weren't always stuck inside. It's a little pitiful to see... but you're all working hard to make your way back.