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Panel 1: Elena rests against the bar counter, leaning her chin in her hand. She smiles warmly, eyes closed, as she says, "What's wrong with being a little bit of both? I feel that way all the time whenever I go home. I'm sure a lot of folks do."

Daniel smiles somewhat nervously as he replies, "T-that’s a good point!"

Panel 2: Elena opens her eyes now as she listens to Daniel say, "And I guess I was glad to see Denver's doing well. I thought about him a lot while I was away."

Panel 3: Daniel's mouth is smiling, but his eyes are downcast as he goes on, "About what I'd do if I ever saw him again. About what I'd say. But now that I actually have the chance to see him... I don't know how to face him."

Panel 4: Caption reads: "THEN." Daniel's voice continues, "I don't know if I'm brave enough to try."

Denver stands in an open doorway of a messy apartment kitchen. A traffic sign hangs on the exposed brick wall, probably stolen or maybe scavenged. Mail, empty cans, and a ketchup bottle someone forgot to put away sit on top of a kitchen table with mismatched chairs (one a plastic lawn chair, the other a metal folding one). Bills are pinned to the refrigerator with magnets while a bunch of liquor bottles live on top of the fridge.

Denver's wearing his old green field jacket with the patches on it, and notably his left arm is in a sling that goes well with the shiner he's sporting beneath his right eye. He holds two halves of a skateboard; one tucked in his armpit, the other held by his injured arm. He says, "Hey. I'm home."