I am not a lunatic! ...I'm not. [He sits on the floor, staring at the mess he's made, the pillow still in his hands, half deflated.]
....They're listening to us - how else would she know my name, about our pasts? The things they know are private and they're prying. Why does it not bother anyone else?
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....They're listening to us - how else would she know my name, about our pasts? The things they know are private and they're prying. Why does it not bother anyone else?