All language subtitles for The.Truth.About.the.Harry.Quebert.Affair.S01E05.Mirror.Mirror.1080p.STAN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H264-SiGMA_track3_eng

Previously on The Truth About
the Harry Quebert Affair...

I'm sorry I hit you.

I didn't mean to hit you.

Please, please open up, Harry!

[Harry]: Oh, Reverend,
I, uh, heard about Nola.

Is she all right?

You, uh, you probably heard
she tried to commit suicide.

Yes, I did.

[Reverend]:
She had a headache,

and she picked up
the wrong medicine.

[Harry]: Oh. Oh, well,
that makes sense.

[Tamara]:
You're a writer.

Why don't you
write the truth

about that twisted
son of a bitch,

'cause he killed Nola.

and in some ways,
killed my Jenny, too.

Mom, I don't think he's coming.

Of course he is.

I'm sure he just got
caught up with his writing.

[knocking] Quebert?

Quebert!

[Tamara reads]:
"Nola, my darling"?

"Were you to die,
where would my love go?"

[Roy Barnaski]:
All right, listen,

we're gonna put your book out
in the fall.

That means you have
one and a half months

to finish it.

I'm sorry, a month and a half?

That's... that's...
that's insane.

You do this for me, right,

I will rip up your old contract,

I will give you an advance
of one million dollars.

[Elijah Stern]:
To what do I owe the honor

of this unannounced visit?

I'm investigating

the death of
Nola Kellergan.

Now, a witness saw her

getting into
your chauffeur's car

several times
the summer she disappeared.

My chauffeur, Luther Caleb,

was a brave and honest man.

You have your killer,
Mr. Goldman.

Well, I'm not convinced
of his guilt,

which is why I'm here.

[camera app snaps]

[♪♪♪♪♪]

[typing]

[Marcus]:
Who the fuck is Luther Caleb?

Who else knew
about Nola and Harry

besides Mrs. Quinn,

and then, why didn't
Chief Pratt question Harry

after Mrs. Quinn told him

what she found?

Who's Tamara again?

Never mind, I shouldn't
even be telling you

any of this.

Sweetie, who am I gonna tell?

Yeah, look, Mom,
I should go, okay?

I'll talk to you later.

Hey, thanks for listening.

I told you to wait!

Wait for what,
Sergeant?

Evidence to fall
from the sky?

Look, all I did
was pay him a visit, okay?

Look what I found in his house.

It's a nude painting.

Look closer,
Sherlock.

[sighs]

Yeah, that's
a naked painting

of Nola Kellergan

in Elijah Stern's
house, okay?

Signed...

"LC."

His chauffeur,
Luther Caleb.

When I brought him up,
Stern went radio silent.

You searched his house
without authorization.

Those photos are illegal.

Inadmissible.

No, no, no.

You can still go after him.

I mean, he doesn't know
I've seen the paintings.

All right, um...

Hmm.

All right, talk
to your friend, Quebert.

See what he knows about Stern

and his relationship

to the dead girl.

I'll look into the chauffeur.

Okay, you want me to ask Harry
if the girl

he's been in love with
for three decades

was having an affair
with Elijah Stern?

That's what friends are for.

Yeah, okay.

[typing]

[Roy]: Marissa!

Let's go with those pages!

[printer whirring]

[Marcus writes]: "Dear Roy,

it's not a trashy book

that will exploit the scandal
in order to sell copies..."

What's Goldman's excuse now?

"It's not a book I'm writing

because you're demanding it.

It's a book I'm writing
because I have to."

"If you like what you read,
call me.

If you don't,
call your lawyers.

Please give
my best regards to..."

Marissa!

Hold my calls.

[sighing]

[Marcus]: You get my email?

It's gold.

This draft is pure gold.

Well, it's not a draft yet, Roy.

They're just pages.

Well, these are the pages

of a bestseller right here.

Jesus.

Murder, child abuse,

her affairs with older,
more powerful men.

My God.

[sighs] Look...

let's just call
the original contract

null and void, okay?

You can deliver me
this manuscript

by the end of August--

End of August?
--end of August,

I will give you
a $1.3 million advance.

Uh...

Whoa. That's, um...

[mouthing silently] Holy shit!

Don't make me regret it, okay?

So, does Quebert know yet?

No.

No, not yet. Soon.

Well, the sooner the better.

We wanna avoid a lawsuit

from death row.

What made you change your mind,

if you don't mind my asking?

Well, I got
some threatening letters.

Someone seems pretty nervous

about what I might
discover, so...

it seemed the truth

might be worth

writing a book about, you know?

[chuckles]

Can you imagine

if somebody tried to kill you?
You could add a zero

onto the sales figures.

Two, if they actually succeeded.

Okay.

Thanks, Roy.

Bye.

[Roy]: Bye, kid.

[news report]:
"The Origin of Evil"

by accused author
Harry Quebert

has been removed from schools

and banned in libraries
across the country.

Out of respect for the victims,

the publisher Schmid and Hanson
have announced

they will not be reprinting,

and that they are pulling
all copies

of the recent re-release.

It's the intelligentsia's
version of the electric chair.

I'm writing again.

Fantastic.

I'm doing a book.

Yeah.

It's about you, Harry.

You and Nola.

And I'd like your blessing,
if you'd be willing to give it.

Don't write it
in the name of friendship.

Write it because you have to.

Okay.

Will you do me a favor?

Yeah.

You have to make sure
this is in the book.

Okay.

[turning pages]

Let me know
when you're ready.

[beeping recorder on]

Nola loved operas.

She said the best operas,
the most beautiful operas,

were tragic love stories...

[recording
of Maria Callas plays]

[♪♪♪♪♪]

I wanna leave, Harry.

Yeah.

Doctor says
you have to be here

for a few more days.

No...

I wanna leave
Sommerdale.

Ah.

We'll never
be happy here.

You're going to the Summer Gala
tonight, right?

[sighs]

I don't know.

I promised
Maggie Pratt I would,

but I'm not
in the mood now.

You have to go, Harry!

Who am I
going to talk to?

It doesn't matter!

Ever since we moved here,
I've dreamt of going.

My mom wouldn't let me.

You have to go,

and I'll be there with you.

Inside your head.

Oh, no.

[laughing] Yeah! No.

I'll be there
with you in spirit.

All right.

You have to go and tell me
everything, okay?

Okay.

Every single detail.

Show some excitement!

I will.

What?

Nothing.

You sure?

Yes.

You seem
a bit distant.

No, I'm right here.

Okay.

[giggling]

All right, you've talked me
into going to the Gala.

[clapping] Yes!

Yes! You're gonna
love it!

[Harry]: So against
my better judgment,

I went to the Gala.

I knew it was a mistake
the moment I arrived.

I kept thinking of Nola

and what she'd done.

I felt guilty
that it was my fault

that she tried
to take her own life.

I couldn't look at anyone

for fear they'd see the guilt
written all over my face

clear as day.

[sighing]

I should have stayed with her,

talked with her,

made her promise

that she would never do
something like that again.

But her face,

she was so fragile,
so vulnerable...

Evening.

[bustle of conversation]

Excuse me.

Harry!

My goodness,
is everything okay?

You're sweating.

Oh, no.
Yes, I'm fine.

It's just, uh--
excuse me--

It's very... very warm.

Corduroy pants
at a Summer Gala...

I'll have them turn up the air.

Come.

I've put you
at the head table,

where everyone can see

our famous
New York celebrity.

Harry Quebert,

allow me to present
Elijah Stern,

who generously
funds this gala.

Oh.

He also owns the house
you're renting

at Goose Cove.

Now, you two
get acquainted

while I find
the rest of our table.

Yes, well, my landlord.

Mr. Stern. Pleasure.

Elijah, please.

[band begins playing]

It's a pleasure

to finally meet
the estimable author

who has the whole
town talking.

Oh, is that so?

You really do.

Thank you,
well, that's...

They speak of little else.

Ah, well...

[♪♪♪♪♪]

I understand
you're spending your time

at Goose Cove

working on a new book.

Yes, I am.

It's a romantic novel,

a bit slow-going
at the moment.

Are you in love?

Why do you ask that?

Well...

I just wondered
if you had to be in love

in order to write
a love story.

Hmm.

I'd wanted to be a writer
myself, or...

an artist of any kind.

In school, I wrote
one or two things,

and they were
so lamentably bad

that I was encouraged

to try almost anything else,

and as we came from
a certain amount of money,

and an established business,

I was encouraged
to go into that

and not to follow
my artistic spirit

any farther.

What kind of a love story is it?

It's a story of forbidden love.

It's bound to be a bestseller.

[drumroll]

[cymbal crash]

[Chief Pratt]:
An all-expense-paid,

one-week stay for two

at the luxurious
Bear Lake Lodge

in the Adirondacks.

[crowd murmurs]

And the winner is...

1-5-2-1.

[crowd groans]

[band plays a flourish]

1-5-2-1, come on.

-Harry?
-Yes?

That's you. 1-5-2-1.

You've won the big prize.

1-5-2-1 right here!

[crowd cheers]

And the winner is

our very own
illustrious author,

Harry Quebert!

Yeah, he's won
the free trip to the, uh...

the Adirondacks.

[Tamara]:
Jen, please.

Hey, who's gonna be
the lucky gal, Harry?

That's for two!

Uh...

Who's the lucky girl?

[laughter]

All right, let's dance!

[♪♪♪♪♪]

Can I drop you somewhere?

I have my car,
thank you.

I'd like to introduce you
to my right-hand man.

He's an exceptional
gardener as well.

If you don't mind,

I'd like to send him
over to Goose Cove

to take care of
the rose bushes.

The last one they sent
from the agency

let all
my plants die.

Harry Quebert.

[speech impediment]
Good evening, Mr. Quebert.

My name is Luther Caleb.

Very nice to meet you.

Good evening.

[Harry]:
I was still badly shaken

by those words I'd seen

scrawled across
the bathroom mirror.

Someone was watching me.

Us.

I'd been feeling it
for weeks now.

I thought I was
just being paranoid,

but now I knew.

There was no place
I could hide.

I always kept my door unlocked,

but now I felt like
even my house wasn't safe.

I could feel that someone
had been inside.

My papers, my desk,

I could tell someone
had been there.

And that's when I realized
it was missing.

The note I'd written
about Nola,

about my feelings for her
the day of her suicide attempt,

it was gone.

Someone had taken it.

[Marcus]: It was Tamara Quinn.

She stole the note.

Yeah, she was angry
that you didn't show up

and the garden party
she threw.

She felt you had
humiliated her,

and humiliated Jenny.

And she got pissed off,

went to your house,

and she claims that she found
what you'd written about Nola,

and she stole it.

What?

She was gonna
use it against you.

But before she could,

it disappeared.

That explains
her behavior

the next day.

Hey.

So, you lucky man, you.

Who you gonna take
to the Aniron...

Adirondacks?

Oh, I don't know.

I'll probably just
use the time

to work on my novel.

It seems like such a...
such a waste

to go to, you know,
a beautiful place alone.

Yeah, well,
it's nice to have the--

There are other
customers, Jenny!

Excuse me.

Mm-hm.

Good morning.

I've been going over
your account, Mr. Quebert.

Yes.

And I would like you
to pay what you owe us

by the end of the week.

We will not be extending
any more credit.

Oh, I understand,
Mrs. Quinn,

and I want to apologize
profusely for missing your--

I'm not interested
in your excuses.

Oh, and I received your lovely,

and I hope
very expensive flowers,

which went right
into the garbage.

[Harry]: I'd been spending
without keeping track,

nearly $600 on food and drink,

just so I could be near her.

Near Nola.

I was oblivious to the fact

that my savings were down
to practically nothing.

And now...

an invoice
from the real estate agent.

It's good, I thought,

I would have to leave now.

I had no choice.

Yes, this is Harry Quebert.

I'm renting the Goose Cove
property from Mr. Stern.

No, yes, I have that.

I have that right now.

Um, unfortunately,
I have business in New York,

and I will need
to terminate my contract

starting August 1st.

No, it's been wonderful,
thank you.

Mm-hm.

Yeah, no, I'm sorry.

Yes.

Yeah, no, I can
drop the keys off

on my way out of town.

Okay.

Great, thank you.

What's going on?

Nola...

Who were you talking to?

What?

Who were you
talking to?

Um...

I'm sorry, I...

I was talking
to the rental agency

about this house.

I have to be
honest with you.

I'm not some...

famous writer
with a lot of money.

I...

I can't afford this house.

I wish I could stay.

So you're just gonna leave?

No...

No.

I have a plan.

So you're not gonna leave?

No, I am
going to leave.

I...

I can't afford to stay here.

But we'll find a way.

I'm gonna go back
to my job in New York

as a teacher,

and...

you can come visit me.

It's not that far.

And we can talk on the phone.

No...

And then when you're 18,
you can...

you can come
to New York, and--

That's three years
away from now!

--go to school.

It won't be that long.

Yes, it will,
it's three years!

It's not that long.

Yes, it is!

I can't stay here.

I just don't have the money.

Yes, you can.

How?

We'll find us a way.
We'll find...

It doesn't matter!
We'll make it work.

We always
make it work!

Don't you love me?

That... that...
that's not the point.

Do you love me?

Yes.

Then all this...

That's all that matters.

You can't leave me.

[sighs]

[starting engine]

[Harry]: Taking her
to the Adirondacks

was a mistake.

I should never have said yes.

She thought that
by being there,

it would free us

to be something
that we couldn't be,

but nothing happened
between us.

I tried to get another room,

but there wasn't one available.

I slept outside on the balcony
on a chair.

It was the longest night
of my life.

I can't make you believe me.

I can't make
anyone believe me,

but it's the truth.

You like to swim, right?

Yes.

Okay, good.
[giggles]

[knock on door]

Nola?

Nola, can I come in?
[knocking]

[dialing phone]

[call ringing]

Sommerdale Police.

Sommerdale Police, hello?

[hanging up]

Harry?

Mm-hm.

Look.

What am I looking at?

Them.

No one here is
looking at us.

[Harry]: She wanted so badly

for this to be a time
she'd always remember,

to believe we could have
a future together.

One, two, three...

[shutter clicking]

Oh, that was
a really good one...

[Harry]: I tried
to keep up the pretense,

knowing that we would be
returning to real life

soon enough.

[screaming] Nola!

[rain pattering]

Tell me you'll
be here tomorrow.

Nola...

You can't leave, Harry.

I'll bring you
warm bread.

I'll make you
fresh coffee.

I'll type up
your manuscript.

I'll take care
of everything, just...

just tell me
you'll be here.

I'll be here.

Swear on it.

In the name of our love,
swear that you'll be here.

Please.

I swear.

[starting engine]

And so, you just... left?

What else
was I gonna do?

I was just...

terrified
what Nola would do

when she found out
I'd gone.

But to stay
and to pretend

that we could have some
sort of life together...

would be worse.

She would
have realized

I would have
abandoned her,

and I was afraid

she would
hurt herself again.

But you didn't
go back to New York.

No.

No...

[car honking]

[Harry]: I was
on my way to New York,

and then...

[honking]

Luther literally chased me down

in his Mustang,

stopped me on the road.

[brakes screeching]

It was so aggressive.

I was scared to death
what was going to happen...

What are you doing?

Please...

And he calmly told me that...

Stern had been looking for me

for a few days,

and to follow him home.

[Luther]:
Mr. Quebert.

[Stern]:
Mr. Quebert!

Mr. Stern.

I was starting to think
I'd never find you.

I've, um...

Have a seat.

Oh, thank you.
I've been out of town.

What can I do for you?

I know everything.

Everything.

You thought
you could just run off?

I really have no idea
what you're talking about.

The house at Goose Cove,
of course.

I got a call from the agency.

Why didn't you tell me

that you were going to
have to leave the house?

I'm afraid
I've exhausted my funds...

and, um...

I have to...

alter my plans.

Well...

there's no need to leave
on that account.

I don't need
the income from renting,

and I'd very much
like to support

your artistic endeavor,

so why don't you
stay at the house

to finish your novel?

What do you think?

I don't understand.

It's...

We don't know each other well.

Why such generosity?

The pride of contributing

to the creation
of a great novel.

Every artist needs a benefactor,

and I'd like to be yours.

So the next thing
that was on my mind was...

getting back
to the house in time.

I was panicked that
Nola would've come back,

found the door locked,

the house buttoned up,

and she would've realized
that I had abandoned her.

[Marcus]: You made it
back in time?

[Harry]:
I made it back in time.

But she must
have wondered

where you got the money
for the rent--

Oh, yeah, she did.

I just told her
that it was... a bank loan,

made up some bullshit
about that and, uh...

she believed me.

And we never
discussed it again.

Hmm.

And the next month
was just absolute bliss.

[typing]

[Harry]: I'd never, ever,
in my entire life

been so inspired.

It was like...

the writing
just started to flow.

[typewriter keys clacking]

[♪♪♪♪♪]

Your writing
is beautiful.

[giggles]

It goes straight
to your heart.

See you tomorrow,
right?

Yes.

Okay?

[giggles]

Thank you.

[Harry]: She was
there for me every day.

At night, she'd take
the pages home,

type them up,
bring them back.

She would read them.

Give me her insight.

Her thoughts.

[Marcus]: You let her
read your pages?

[Harry]: Always.

She was brilliant.

I could never have
written it without her.

Hmm.

She was my muse.

So that's how Harry Quebert
wrote his masterpiece

in a mere few weeks.

You know, when she was gone,

I could never write
like that again.

[guard]:
Five minutes, Quebert.

Mm-hm.

And you felt safe?

No one bothered you?

No, I never
felt safe.

I always felt like
somebody was watching me.

watching us.

Want me to turn it off?

This is for
your ears only.

I made a horrible
discovery

about Nola's mother.

A few days
after the Adirondacks,

she came to my house...

[door opens]

[sighs]

I lied to you

when I told you
that I told my parents

that I was staying
at Nancy's house.

I didn't tell them anything.

I just ran away.

My mother told me
I had to be punished.

[♪♪♪♪♪]

So her mother
found out about it,

and beat her with a ruler.

I could see the bruises.

That's criminal.

She also would get
a bowl of water,

fill it with ice,

grab the back of her head,
submerge her,

and tell her that she was
gonna deliver her.

She'd deliver her?

Deliver her from evil.

[Nola's mother]: Go on...

say the words.

"I...

have..."

[splashing]

[moaning and choking]

[spluttering and gasping]

I have...

forsaken the Lord.

I have provoked the Holy One.

I have sinned,
and I have done evil."

Are you going to be
a good girl?

Yes. I promise, Mother.

If only your promises

were enough
to defeat the devil.

No!

[screaming] No, please!

[guard]: Time's up, Quebert.
Let's go.

I don't understand

why don't you want anyone
to know this.

Because I learned
something

way more frightening.

I made another horrible
discovery about her mother.

What discovery?

[guard]: I said time's up.
Let's go.

I made a horrible discovery
about her mother.

The thing is,

I didn't even know Nola had
gone to the Adirondacks

at the time.

She never said
a word about it?

Nothing.

I just showed up at her house
like I always did,

so we could go
to the beach together.

Mm-hm.

[ringing doorbell]

Nola?

Nola, are you in there?

[ringing doorbell]

Nola isn't feeling
too well, Nancy.

But I'll be sure
to tell her you dropped by.

[door closes]

All week, it was the same.

"Nola isn't feeling well.

I'll tell her you stopped by."

Then on that following Monday,

voilà,

Nola magically
reappeared.

Why won't you tell me
where you were?

Why all the secrecy?

You wouldn't
understand.

And what's with
the sweatshirt?

It's, like, 85 out.

I just felt like
wearing it.

Because you can tell me.

I mean, someone's beating
you again, aren't they?

Yes, for, um...

disappearing for a week.

But it was worth it.

I'd do it again
in a heartbeat.

[Nancy]:
That's when she told me

about her being in love
with an older man.

She didn't name names,

but I'm sure
it was Stern.

Did you ever
see them together?

Nola and Stern?

No. Like I told you,

he'd just send that
deformed chauffeur of his.

The whole thing
was so sordid...

secretive.

Nola?

[engine starts]

Nola, you...

[Marcus]: So you never
confronted her about it?

I did... once.

I asked her why,

when she could've been
with any boy she wanted,

she chose to be
with some old guy.

What'd she say?

Just two words...

"For love."

After she disappeared,

I told Chief Pratt everything.

He promised he'd investigate.

Uh-huh.

Get to the bottom of it.

If I'd spoken up sooner,
she'd be alive today.

[Marcus]: Sergeant, it's me.

Wrong number.

Yeah, we need to go back

and re-interview
Kellergan, Sergeant.

Oh, we do, do we?

And what makes us think
it's so important

that we have to call
after hours?

New evidence
to confront him with, okay?

Nola's relationships,
her beatings.

I'll tell you what.

You ask the minister

if his wife beat the crap
out of his daughter

because she was a slut, okay?

And I'll follow
my lead.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
what lead?

Come on, Perry, you know
I'm gonna stick around

whether you include me or not.

[sighs]

Meet me at Clark's,
tomorrow morning at 11:00.

No, why Clark's?
Just tell me now.

Because I said so.

God!

Asshole.

What's up?

Water, please.
Thank you.

Oh, you know what?

Clark's does have
fantastic water.

No wonder you wanted
to meet here.

You should, uh, you
should try the ice.

Unbelievable.

In August 1975,

a complaint was filed
against Luther Caleb

by Jenny Quinn,

now Jenny Dawn,
for assault.

What?

Yeah. It turns out

he was already
being monitored by police

for inappropriate
behavior towards women

between the years
of 1970 and 1975.

Holy shit.

And that's why
we're meeting at Clark's.

Poor Luther.

He was sweet,

in spite of
the way he looked.

I could never bring myself
to charge him.

And yet, you filed
a complaint

against him.

Yeah. Travis insisted.

He hung around Sommerdale
a lot that summer,

and...

sometimes he acted a little
aggressively towards me.

Was he violent?

No, just...

a little too insistent.

Right.

He...

he wanted me to...

This is going
to sound ridiculous.

He... he wanted me
to sit for him.

So he could
paint me.

Don't look so shocked.

I was a goddamn prom queen.

No, yeah.
-Yeah?

-Yeah.
-Oh.

He had trouble

taking no for an answer.

[sighs sadly]

Well, what...

what, uh...
what happened to him?

One day,

he just disappeared.

Apparently he was killed
in a car accident or something.

They found
Luther Caleb's car

at the bottom of a cliff
near Bradford.

That was four weeks
after Nola's disappearance.

They also found out

he attended
a fine arts college

in Portland,

so it's more than likely

the initials
on Nola's painting are his.

[clearing throat]

[knocking]

Okay, why wasn't this guy
a suspect back in '75?

There was no evidence
in the original case file

that pointed to him.

Okay, well,
we need to go back

and talk to Stern.

And say what?

We have reason to suspect

your chauffeur was
guilty of painting?

No, we need concrete
evidence of foul play,

legally obtained.

And stop with all this
"we" shit, man.

There's no "we."

Oh, does that mean
you're not taking me

to the policemen's ball?

[knocking insistently]

[motorcycle approaching]

All right, keep
your mouth shut.

I ask the
questions, okay?

I'm the cop, you're the writer.

And I use that term
very loosely.

Hello, Sergeant.

Sir.

You workin'
with the police now?

Uh, he is not.

Furthermore, he understands

he's not allowed
to speak to you directly,

and that I'll be the one
asking all the questions.

Right?

-Mm-hm.
-Yeah.

When will
my daughter's remains

be returned to me,
Sergeant?

I would like to give her
a proper burial.

Uh...

Soon, sir.

I know
it's difficult.

My apologies.

Mr. Kellergan,

there are
a few gray areas

in our case file

that we're
trying to fill in.

I was wondering

if you knew
a certain Elijah Stern?

Not personally.

I met him at a few
Sommerdale functions, I believe.

And his chauffeur?

Luther Caleb?

I don't recall

a Luther Caleb.

Why?

Um...

We believe Nola
may have been...

linked to these two people.

Linked?

We think--

[snapping fingers,
tapping table]

There's no, uh, way

to say this delicately,
Reverend, but, um...

we have evidence that suggests

your daughter
was in a relationship

with Mr. Stern.

My daughter...

was the victim...

of that bastard pedophile,
Harry Quebert,

who deserves to die
on death row

for what he did!

This conversation is over!

[Marcus]:
Your wife beat her,

didn't she,
Reverend?

Oh, you don't know
what you're talkin' about!

Well, why didn't you
tell anyone

when Nola first
ran away in late July?

You didn't
call the police?

What, you just

you wait around
for a whole week?

Because I knew she'd come back,
and she did.

No, you felt guilty
about the beatings

that she was getting
from her mother,

the ones that you did
nothing to stop,

and then she--

[roaring] Go back to the hell
you came from!

Reverend! Reverend!

[gasping]

Don't kill him, Reverend.

Let me do it.

I'm a fucking idiot
for letting you tag along.

I'm just--

Shut up!

Don't say another word.

Oh, God. Forgive me.

Forgive me.

[♪♪♪♪♪]