"Oh, homework," Cash said, "That would be very appealing to my whole Ravenclaw thing, you know." It was easier to make a little quip than to actually engage with the reality of homework — to Cash's surprise, Ford still seemed committed to ensuring that Cash was something approximating alright. This was both very kind of him given that they weren't that close, but also probably at least a little futile. There was nothing Ford could do that would ensure the crumbling house of Cash's memories didn't cave in on him, which was — with some academic distance — what he was starting to suspect had contributed to the situation today.

He sort of liked the idea of this as a puzzle he could solve. Things would be easier if his head and his grief were a locked-door mystery where the detective could walk in say aha! and then the mystery would be over and everyone could go on with their lives. Cash didn't really suspect things could work out that neatly.

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