"Mmhmm," Jyn hums in response, nodding as best she can without pulling away. It should bother her more than it does, she thinks, that those first few years are a blank, something she didn't know her parents long enough for them to tell her about. Given everything, though, including the reasons why that's the case, it doesn't really faze her. Obviously it hasn't made any kind of difference. Besides, it would just give her more to remember of her parents, and more ways for her having lost them to hurt. That, she'll never admit to, something that would have to be torn out of her, but it's true all the same. "Not very well, but I do. Bits and pieces."

The droid who took care of her, her favorite holodrama, the toys she had to abandon, the conversations her parents would have with the man in white that she never understood but was often upset by, those are things seared into her memory, that she would see in her sleep even if she tried to shut them out. Before that, though, it's a blur, and then a blank.

Still looking up at him, she asks, "Do you remember Fest? Did you live there long?"