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Booker:I’m getting there.
McCall:Does she know? About your throat?
Booker:No. I told her phone calls were against hospital policy, which isn’t a lie.
McCall:It’s a lie’s cousin. And I’m a liar’s cousin.
Booker:I’ll tell her, but I need to do this in my own way. Are you going to help me or not?
McCall:You know I will. Send me a list of what you need.
Booker:Thanks, man.
McCall:Just call me your fan boy.
Booker:Is that some new kink I don’t want to know about?
McCall:You’ve been in the desert too long, my friend.
Booker:Ain’t that the truth.
Macie + Booker
Macie:There was a carton of strawberries left outside my door.
Booker:No theft necessary.
Macie:The note said meeting me was worth the punishment.
Booker:It was.
Macie:Written in that serial killer chicken scratch of Detective McCall’s.
Booker:I’m millions of miles away. I needed a proxy.
Macie:I told you I didn’t want to do this. Does what I want not matter?
Booker:You might not want this baby, but you need it.
Macie:Always assuming to know what I need. All these years later, like you have the right?
Booker:I need you to trust me. I know you have no reason to. I know I don’t deserve it. But I'm begging you, Macie. If I could get out of this bed on my own and get on my knees, I would. Please. Just one more time, trust me.
Macie:No.
Booker + Macie
Booker:Do you remember the day that sixth grader knocked you down at the park off Miller Road? We were there with McCall, and all the swings were broken except the one I was pushing you on.
Macie:Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t doing this?
Booker:I was hoping you’d changed your mind. Maybe a good night’s sleep softened your heart?
Macie:You’re going to bug the hell out of me until I play along, aren’t you?
Booker:I like to think of it as me being persistent in my apology.
Macie:Fine. I scraped my knee and ruined my favorite sparkly black leggings.
