Sorry to stall on these - it's been a bad week in Gran world. I'll update these with commentary soon.
UPDATE: Thanks for waiting. Unfortunately we had a death in the family and I needed to be somewhere. It's rare that I travel now, particularly without my spouse and child, so it does oddly take me back to those days of flying with little more than a laptop and a few pens, cobbling a strip together in whatever place I can.
This strip was cobbled together. I was staying with a friend in Orlando, drawing it on her couch. I scanned it at a library with great frustration. After Sloane (quickly) turned around the colors, the real assembly began.
I think the comic speaks for itself, but I'll clarify a few points. This does take place over many months. The panel before she deletes the contact is a confessional to Eve about her bad night.
We see her fall off the wagon, and it's fine. These things aren't linear - they dot our reality and become, as Hanna puts it, a "dull normality". There is no victory, only a continuation where the pain subsides at an almost undetectable speed.