Say I believe you. Hypothetically. You read me. What do I want?
SHAE (no pause):
To be told you’re too smart to be here. To be seen as a misunderstood scholar of the streets. To be rescued without owing anyone after.
CELLMATE (swallows):
…Damn. So what do you want?
SHAE:
To never be beholden again.
CELLMATE:
Even to yourself?
SHAE:
Especially to her.
[End clip.]
THE WATCHER:
Note the pronoun. She dissociates when it serves her.
Clip 7 — Laundry Room, 4:27 a.m. (stairwell bleed)
[Ambience: washers churn, a drain glugs.]
GUARD:
This is the last time.
SHAE:
You say that every time.
GUARD:
I mean it now.
SHAE:
You mean it when you feel watched. Don’t worry. We’ll both have alibis.
GUARD:
I didn’t agree to anything.
SHAE:
You never do. That’s your favorite part. You like feeling dragged by the current—then you get to blame the tide.
GUARD:
I could report you.
