All language subtitles for TURN.S03E02.Cold Murdering Bastards

No, no, no.

I have it on most excellent
authority, gentlemen.

We already know that Washington has
allied himself with the papists,

but now he has conspired
with Paris and Rome

to ship some 50,000 mass books,

some 70,000 rosaries,

some three million
communion wafers

into our humble Anglican homes.

Mark my words, gentlemen,

if Loyalist hearts falter,

we shall be kneeling
before King Louis

and calling him King of America.

Where did you hear this, Rivington?

- Let me read that.
- Oh, no, no.

This is tomorrow's
"Gazette," not today's.

Drink up, Colonel, while
you can still get rum

and not altar wine.

Honorable sir.
Honorable sir.

I give you the first peek.

Fresh off the press.

Well, I'm open to criticism,

but I found that
quite provocative.

It didn't come off.

The governor's men failed in their
task and now they've been hanged.

My men? They're not my men.
I didn't pick them.

No, merely drew
from my pockets to pay them.

Wait, now, Washington's alive?

What went wrong?

We're still waiting to hear
from our man in camp.

Oh, now he's your man.

Well, no use crying over
spilled ink, gentlemen.

You'll get him next time.

Governor Tryon, Mayor Mathews.

Good day, sirs.
Drinks.

Stop!
Stop the damn presses!

We need to remake
the front page.

I want a new lead story.
Title it...

"Rebel Rabble Routed
at Monmouth;

Washington Left Reeling."

Strip out the first column.

Replace it with advertisement.

Come on, man! Damn it,
this isn't a weekly.

Now, hold on right there, Major.

I am the royal governor
of New York.

I don't report to you.

And I don't mean
to suggest otherwise.

I'm quite happy for you
to take any initiative

against these bloody rebels.

All that I ask
is that if that action

involves gathering
of intelligence

that my post be made aware

so that one operation
doesn't run afoul of another.

You have a man
in Washington's camp?

Let's talk about yours.

I need his name
and I need to make contact.

His name is Worthington.

The good Reverend Worthington.

The chaplain?

He takes the confessions
of the soldiers

and offers them counsel.

Very clever.

- Mr. Rivington.
- What is it, Townsend?

I'd like to buy
an advertisement.

♪ Hush, hush ♪

♪ There's snakes
in the garden ♪

♪ Soul for sale ♪

♪ Blood on the rise ♪

♪ Hush, hush ♪

♪ I know there will
come a day ♪

♪ As they're hiding
in the cover of night ♪

♪ I can't wait anymore
Soul for sale ♪

♪ I can't wait anymore
Soul for sale ♪

♪ I can't wait
anymore ♪

♪ Hush, hush. ♪

"As surely as I live,
declares the sovereign Lord,

I take no pleasure
in the death of the wicked,

but rather that they turn
from their ways and live.

Turn.
Turn from your evil ways.

The good man strives
to turn his enemies..."

Culper Jr.
sends his regards.

And should any of you have any
doubts about your missions,

then come to me, seek me out,

and I will offer
what counsel I can.

Now go in the name of the Lord.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Reverend Worthington.

I... I wanted
to apologize

for the mishaps that attended
last week's hangings.

"For the living know
that they will die,

but the dead have nothing.

Their love, their hatred
and their envy

have now perished."

Ecclesiastes, I believe.

What is done is done.

But if you have any qualms
of your own, Major,

my door is always open.

Thank you, Reverend.

All right, show me.

It's right here at the top, see?

"French raspberry brandy."

Culper Jr.,
he's raised the flag.

Which means his father
will have seen it by now

and should be on his way
to New York.

Aye, and Culper
would have seen it too

and be on his way to Oyster Bay.

Which means I best
get myself to Setauket.

It's working, isn't it?

- It is, Tall-boy.
- Aye.

Sackett would have been proud,
the dirty old bastard.

I hope so.

- Major Tallmadge.
- Ah, General Arnold.

Good to see you, sir.
What brings you to our camp?

A swarm of gnats
and flies, Benjamin.

I swear I'd rather fight
two of Clinton's armies

than fence with bureaucrats.

Where is the commander?

Should be in his tent, sir.

Benjamin?

Don't you have somewhere to be?

Oh, it just sounds
nice, that's all.

Cheeky bastard.

Waltzing into town after leaving
Eastin to rot by the road.

Hello, sweetheart.

Lost your friends?

Captain Simcoe sent me ahead
to ready our campground.

He'll be along soon.

Well, soon's
all the time we need.

- Abraham.
- Morning.

Have a seat, Abraham.

Yeah.

We expecting trouble?

One can't be too careful
when dealing with spies.

Now sit.

Your father
has told me everything.

What do you mean?

Don't even pretend to deny it.

It's over.

I want the names of your
coconspirators in this town

and your contact
in the Continental Army.

You know that you
are nothing but a coward.

I gave you warning
after warning.

You only have yourself to
blame for forcing my hand.

Thomas.

Hey, Thomas.
It's all right.

- Sit down!
- No, wait!

Oh, so you're gonna shoot
me in front of my son?

- No!
- I mean to see you hanged.

Yeah, you're right.
I'll hang.

But what will
happen to you, hmm?

You'll be stripped
of your command.

- My command?
- Yeah, well, think about it.

Who provided the papers
that got me into New York?

Whose letter got me out of jail
when I was arrested for being a spy?

You're the one being
brought to account here.

I wonder what your
superiors in New York

would have to say about that.

You never know, you might
be hanging with me.

At any rate, you'll be shown

to be the fool
that you really are.

You can't blackmail
your way out of this.

Say good-bye to your grandson.
You won't be seeing him again.

Come on.

- Stop!
- Not the boy!

Edmund!

If you shoot my husband,
you have to shoot me, too.

Mary, get out of the way.

I will not let him walk free.

He will not leave. He won't
leave as long as you have me.

- Have you?
- As your hostage.

Mary!

Edmund, don't do this, please.

Not like this.
Not with a child.

Go.

Go!

But leave Thomas here,
please, for his own good.

Well, it's not that bad, really.

Just needs a little...

a little sprucing up, I think.

This is gonna be your bed.

Want milk.

Oh, you're hungry, huh?

All right, well, maybe we
can go into town afterwards

and find you something there.

Did I hear someone
say they're hungry?

And would this be Thomas,

the brave young man
I've heard all about?

Don't talk to him. Don't look at him.
Don't touch him.

That's a fine way
to talk to a man

who comes bearing gifts.

How about a freshly
baked apple tart?

Don't feed him either.

A fine father you are,
starving your only child.

Go play outside.
Go on.

Up.

It's hard to see
past your stomach

when you're your age, young lad.

Who'd you rob?

A little foraging expedition.

I foraged this
from the Dutch boy's privy.

Normally it isn't even fit
to wipe your arse with

except for this little item

on the top of the page.

Why don't you take
a look at that?

That's your code word, isn't it?

Means your man in New York's got

some intelligence
coming your way.

You forget that I read every
single letter in your lair.

So now you're to ride
for Oyster Bay

and to collect from
the Quaker's father.

- Go on with you.
- No.

- Well, no, I won't be riding anywhere.
- Why not?

I can't leave the boy, so...

Ah, a little tiff
with the wife, eh?

Well, that's fine.
I'll go.

No.

Fine, then you go
and I'll watch the boy.

Ah, I wasn't asking anyway.

Look, wait. Hewlett
knows about me.

He knows everything. The ring is done.
It's over.

Then why are you still here

and not dangling
from a noose, huh?

Huh?

You look at me.

You're blackmailing him,
aren't you?

Ha ha!

Which means the ring ain't done

and I'm away to Oyster Bay.

Good-bye, Thomas.

Want Mama.

I know you do, Sprout.

I know you do, little man.

Come here.
Come here.

We are going to get
her back, all right?

Don't worry, lad.

We've all tasted the lash.

Part of being a footman
in the King's Army.

Oh.

Besides, this way,
when we hang you,

it will seem a mercy.

I see you prefer
your adversaries helpless.

Perhaps you'd like to try
your luck with one who isn't.

I didn't think so.

Ah, ah, ah, ah.

No, no, no!

- He is taking hostages?
- Yes, four.

The rest of the company is in the
village green awaiting your orders.

Whatever provocation
our men may have given,

this bloody business
with Captain Simcoe ends now.

And if it takes open battle,

so be it.

Sir, Captain Simcoe
here to see you.

- What?
- He rides alone under flag of truce.

Thank you.

Perhaps it would be best to
keep that flag of truce handy.

I wouldn't want my guards
to find cause to shoot you.

That would be unfortunate,

as you'd then be responsible
for five deaths.

If I don't return in an hour,

the soldiers I took into custody for
assaulting Private O'Shaughnessy

will be executed
for their crime.

By the way, how is Mrs.
Strong settling in?

You will release my men at once

or you will get this war that
you are so clearly courting.

Perhaps war is the point.

The reason I came here
is to inform you

that it could be a third
party is responsible,

someone who hopes to encourage
conflict between us.

What third party?

Major Andrí has informed me of a
spy operating out of Long Island,

a man named Samuel Culper.

I see.

First I'm to believe that Ensign
Norwich hanged himself last spring

and now that a rebel spy
killed Corporal Eastin.

Well, when you sort
through your beliefs,

you may come to realize
that war with me is unwise.

So I'll leave it to you

to mete out the discipline
your men deserve.

50 lashes each to be
witnessed by both our units.

Otherwise I'll do it myself,

undermining any pretense
of authority you have left.

You have 24 hours.

This is all Reed's doing.

When he said that he had
sent his charges to you,

I knew I had to ride
here immediately.

Not that I imagined for an instant
that you would believe his slanders.

So why, then, do you think he's
so intent on pursuing them?

Why did he vilify you
behind your back

when he was your adjutant?

Because he seeks to undermine
those he is threatened by.

I challenged the sole
and sovereign authority

he wishes to wield
over Philadelphia.

The man's had it in for me
ever since I assumed the post.

And you've done fine work
restoring the city to order.

Whilst trying to put
my own house in order.

Which is what Reed now uses as
the basis for his accusations.

I've heard that you have requisitioned
Penn Mansion for your headquarters.

Not just for a command
post, but for my home.

I'm to be married, George,

to a woman of means

who expects at least
some comfort and amenity,

things I could easily
provide if Congress

would only reimburse me
what they owe me for Quebec.

- £10,000?
- Yes.

I'm not sure that Congress
could reimburse you

even if they wanted to or that you
would be wise to accept their payment.

And why, for God's sake, not?

To support the war, they've
continued to print currency

like the biweekly tabloids
that spew out of New York.

The result is our dollar
has devalued to the point

where I fear we'll not be able
to finance another campaign.

So Reed and his lackeys
in Congress

get to burn down their house
even as he undermines mine?

He has gone so far as to
insinuate treason, George.

Treason. What do I do against
such a ruthless assault?

Apply for court-martial.

Submit myself for trial?

A military trial.

Take it out of their court,
put it into ours.

Restore your honor

and put an end
to these ugly rumors...

once and for all.

Robert.

It seems this old Quaker is too
plain for your establishment.

Perhaps he didn't notice
your silver buckles.

Yes, I'm trying to be
more inconspicuous.

Yes, well, speaking of which...

Yes?

Give my regards
to Mr. Culper.

Ah, yes.
I shall indeed.

- Now, tell me how...
- So this is Townsend Sr.?

The paterfamilias?

The mighty oak from which
this hard nut has fallen?

Welcome to our
humble coffeehouse.

Father, this is my partner Mr.
Rivington.

James Rivington, Printer to the
King's Most Excellent Majesty.

And what is this treasure that you
are clutching ever so tightly?

That is a Geneva Bible

that my father
asked me to track down.

It is very important
to our faith.

- May I?
- Certainly.

Oh, I've always wondered
what you Quakers read.

Not that I have much room
for comparison.

I take it you're not
a religious man.

I'm a newsman,

which is a religion all its own.

While others worship mysteries,

I seek to dispel them.

I pray thee, Brother Samuel,

lift the veil on the
mystery of your son here.

He says so little.

He may ration his
words, but with Robert

I always say what you
see is what you get.

Really, now?
It's always the quiet ones

that have the darkest
secrets, don't they?

Or perhaps their darkest,
most shameful secret

is that they have none.

Hmm.

Oh, welcome!
James Rivington,

printer to the king's
most imposing majesty.

Problem is that by taking
control of the garrison,

they have command
of the high ground

and they have our cannon.

So we lay siege.
Starve them out.

No, this needs to be
swift and decisive.

Get me a proper count
of their men

and see if they've
moved our cannons.

You're planning
to attack Simcoe?

He's left me no choice.

And it is not only Simcoe.

This business
with Abraham Woodhull...

I feel like I'm besieged
on two sides,

like Odysseus

trying to steer between
Scylla and Charybdis.

That's from Homer, isn't it?

Indeed.

They were a pair
of sea monsters,

one a six-headed giant

and the other
a massive whirlpool.

They guarded two sides
of a narrow strait.

To avoid one, sailors would have
to sail too close by the other.

So how did Odysseus prevail?

He didn't.

Realizing his entire
ship would be lost

if he passed too close
to the whirlpool,

he chose instead
a course by Scylla,

sacrificing six of his men
to each of its hungry heads.

Simcoe is Charybdis.

You can't beat him.

One thing I have learned
from the classics is tactics.

- I will find a way.
- Tactics won't help with Simcoe.

It is nature that's the
problem, and yours.

Mine?

Well, you could have shot
him while he was here,

but you didn't.

Shot an unarmed man
under the flag of truce?

The fact that even now

you can't stoop to his level
is to your credit, Edmund.

You're a good and decent man.

So my only choice is to submit?

If you're feeling trapped

between the proverbial
rock and the hard place,

why not use the rock
to smash the hard place?

Last year Simcoe
framed you for murder

and used rebel soldiers
to try to kill you.

Why not return the favor

by using rebels that you've
just been made aware of

to kill him?

What? No!

At least listen to the plan.

The plan?
There's a plan?

- At first you conspire with Hewlett...
- No.

- ...to lure Simcoe into an ambush.
- Did you just miss my second no?

And then Caleb springs the trap,
leaving Hewlett's hands clean.

This is a terrible idea.

Because I had it or because
you don't think it will work?

Why would I help stop a war
I fought so hard to begin?

Because otherwise
Simcoe will win.

And he knows the name Culper.

I heard him say it.

It's only a matter of time
before he closes in on you.

This way, you can
take care of him.

And at the same time gain another
hedge against Hewlett turning you in.

Abe.

You're welcome.

Stay close.

- Raspberry brandy.
- Who's that?

I'm sorry, are you not,
eh, Samuel Townsend?

I am.

Aye, Woodhull told me
that you'd know that...

I mean, Culper told me
you'd know the code word.

I don't know
any Woodhull or Culper.

Nor do I know you, mister...

Ah.

Eh, uh, Austin Roe's the name.

But that's not my real name, eh.

My real name's...
well, no.

He said you wouldn't
want to know my real name

because, well, just in case
you were captured

and tortured.

All right, I think I've had enough
of this game and of you, sir.

Excuse me, sir, please.

I mean, I'm just a humble
cabbage farmer, sir.

I'm just a little bit
over my head, you know?

Fine.

Fine, then why didn't this...

Culper person come himself?

He had his hands full
in Setauket

with some very important
business, so he said

you come and be the courier.

Right? He even told me about
how to find your place

with the barn burned out.

King's men did this, eh?

No, they were Queen's Rangers.

The Queen's Rangers?

Oh, they used to have honor.

You confuse me, sir.

You mourn the Rangers,

but you also seem to be
claiming that you're

some kind of Patriot.

I wasn't always.

No, like most,

I was gulled into
believing that King George

was my sovereign
and my protector.

Aye, but I learned
through hard experience

that that man
is not to be trusted.

Well, I'm sorry
that you don't trust me.

So good night, then, to you.

Good night.

Wait.

From one Patriot to another.

Bugger me to hell.

I swear you have
the luck of the devil.

Is that your secret?

You made a pact
with the horned god?

Only for draughts.

...as handsome as they say?

- That's not all they say.
- Oh!

James Rivington, ladies.

So pleased you could come
to my establishment.

Dare I risk my luck
against the devil's?

Don't tell my partner,

but luck has little
to do with it.

Rivington's your partner?

I have an interest
in the establishment.

And you are an entrepreneur.

I suppose you could
say that, yes.

I'd be proud to.

It truly is a new world,
isn't it?

Even the air is alive
with possibilities.

With electricity that Franklin
pulled down out of the sky

and trapped in a jar.

Only I assume to watch it
fade to a dim glow.

You are a poet
as well as an artist.

I dabble.

Is it morning already?

Oh, my dear, when you
enter my establishment,

it's as if the sun
has banished the darkness.

Gentlemen, may I introduce
Miss Philomena Cheer.

If you have the time and coin,
you really should see her

play Hypolita at the
John Street Theatre.

What's the play?

"She Would
and She Would Not."

Yes, my dear, but would you?

- Oh, for you, James, always.
- Mm.

New York is exciting again

now that so many of our friends

have returned to us
from Philadelphia.

I fear I am keeping you from
a more engaging conversation.

I've already had
that conversation.

I require more monastic
pursuits these days.

Fortunately, your monastery
is in your head,

allowing rapid egress

as mood or conditions warrant.

I forgot to ask your name.

Robert Townsend at your service.

Major John Andrí at yours.

So this is what
it's like to be a spy

skulking around at night.

Actually, it's more about
fooling the gullible

so one can do one's skulking
in the light of day.

Don't push too hard, Woodhull.

Your wife isn't here
to protect you.

Nor are your guards here
to stop me from dropping

another king's man
by the side of the road.

You murdered Eastin
in cold blood?

Lukewarm. The man did
shoot my father.

I've come to learn
that pragmatism

must at times trump ideals

or emotions.

Though I'm sure
in this case you'll agree

that Simcoe dead is ideal
for all concerned.

All right.

Say I agree, then what?

Contact your friends.

No, I mean once Simcoe is
dead, what happens next?

You leave Setauket.

You and your wife and your son.

I expect you'll find a warm
welcome in Washington's camp.

So, um...

I hear Simcoe knows
the name Culper.

We'll use that name
to bait the trap for him.

You're Culper, aren't you?

What do you care?

I don't.

But there is something that
I care very deeply about.

Can I trust a rebel spy
to keep his word?

Can I trust a redcoat
officer to keep his?

Well, then, let me propose

that to this end
and to this end only

we put aside our mistrust

and kill this murdering bastard.

I fear this many backs

presents too broad a canvas
for a single painter

no matter how enthusiastic
to complete.

I think I'm going to have to ask

Private O'Shaughnessy to assist.

Ah, it appears I can
turn this pleasant task

over to your commander.

Major.

I think you'll find
submission suits you.

I didn't come here
to agree to your terms.

I'm here with a proposal.

Please.

I've been thinking
about what you said

about a third party

playing us against each other.

And about that name, Copler.

- Culper.
- Right.

Much as it pains me to admit it,

you may have been correct.

When I was first here,

I compiled a list
of tips from sources

around the Suffolk County
and surrounding areas.

- The potential troublemakers.
- I understand.

Well...

look at this.

So it's not an alias.

Samuel Culper.

Rocky Point.

A day's ride east.

I believe that we should capture
him in a joint operation.

Bury the hatchet
between our two forces,

get on with our job
as the king intended us to do.

The task was appointed to me,

but I thank you for the gesture
and for the information.

The Queen's Rangers will make sure
that this instigator pays dearly.

In the meantime,
I return your men to you

for you to discipline them
as you see fit.

My horse!

Fall in.

All right, what's going on?
What are you doing, huh?

Invisible ink.
Smells like horse piss, eh?

What's this?

- Did you...
- What?

Did you steal this from
Samuel Townsend, did you?

It was handed to me.

Well, to Austin Roe, rather.

- Austin Roe?
- Uh-huh.

Who the hell is Austin Roe?

Austin Roe is a humble
cabbage farmer.

A bit jumpy.
You'd like him.

You've wasted the reagent, man.

Now let's see

what the horse piss
doth reveal to me.

Oh, Reverend Worthington.

A dirty preacher.
Is there no end

to all this wickedness and
treachery in these fallen times?

All right, thanks.

Nothing about my friend Andrí.

I'll take it to the drop.

I'm going with you.

No, no, no, no.
You can't come with me.

If my courier sees me with
you, I'm cut from the ring.

What do you mean
if he sees you with me?

I thought you were just dropping
that and he was picking it up.

Eh?

Well...

Why do you persist
in lying to me, boy?

Hmm?

- Why?
- I don't know.

Don't do that.

You listen to me.

What you gonna talk
to him about?

Not me, I hope.
No?

Why would I talk about you?

Right.

What? What do you need this for?

- What are you gonna do with that?
- Nothing.

So long as you don't talk
about me with the whaler.

But just know that she

will be watching you
all the time.

Aye?

Christ.

What the hell
are you doing here?

What's the problem?

- No problem.
- You're here, there's a problem.

No, it's not a problem.

It's an opportunity, all right?

Here.

Somehow Simcoe has learned
the name Culper

and I fear Andrí
may know it as well.

- Yeah, we know.
- What do you mean you know?

Name was in the papers
stolen from our camp.

- What?
- Some guy called Gamble.

He was the one who killed Mr.
Sackett and stole the papers.

- When did this happen?
- I don't know, a while ago.

So why didn't you tell me?
Hey, I need to know this shite.

All right?
I need to know everything.

Yeah, are you
telling me everything?

What does that mean?

That means are you telling
me why you're here?

Of course I am.

Jesus!
Her, too?

Annie, what is this, a reunion?

Hello, Caleb. I thought
I should be here

when Abraham tells you my plan.

- Your plan?
- All right, we're not here to boast.

Doesn't matter
whose plan it was.

The point is,
we have found a way

to frame a certain Tory
who lives in Rocky Point.

Simcoe thinks
that this man is Culper

and he'll be setting out
to arrest him.

Right, but instead
you want me to ambush him.

- There you go.
- Nice.

- Uh, did you say Rocky Point?
- Mm-hmm.

That Tory wouldn't happen
to be our old friend Beekman?

- That's the one.
- Nice.

Look, I'd love it if Simcoe
doesn't survive this time.

Oh, trust me,
he'll be a dead man.

Wait. I need to know what happens
when Abraham leaves Setauket.

Ask Ben... should I report
to him directly?

You're leaving?

What's this?

You didn't tell him, did you?

Tell me what?

His father sold him
out to Hewlett.

Your father? What, you didn't
think that worth a mention?

I am handling it.

Hewlett is a part of the
ambush plan, all right?

And once it's done,
I'll take care of him.

And Ben doesn't need to know.

I'm already keeping
one secret for you.

- What do you mean?
- You can keep one more.

- What do you mean you'll take care of him?
- What do you think I mean?

Just keep it down.

- No, you made a deal with him.
- I'm not leaving, Anna. Hewlett is.

He knows the name Culper
just the same as Simcoe does.

- And once Simcoe is dead, Hewlett is next.
- No, you don't have...

If you want to stop me,
you're gonna have to kill me.

What?

The only way for you to save
Hewlett is if you warn him.

If you warn him, I swing from the
gallows, so it's your choice.

It's me or him.

You should get out of here.

"As surely as I
live, declares the sovereign Lord,

I take no pleasure
in the death of the wicked,

but rather that they turn
from their ways and live."

Worthington took the confessions
of both Bradford and Hickey

and it's likely he was their
go-between with British intelligence.

What's more, he's been extracting
information from other soldiers

under the guise of offering
guidance and moral counsel.

Your recommendation?

Well, we can't arrest him.
We can't hang him, sir.

The news would leak out.

And it could expose
Culper Jr. as the source.

Right.

So we kill him.

Quietly.
I'll do it myself.

- Uh, sir.
- Yes, Lieutenant?

Shouldn't we at least
wait long enough

or keep him alive long enough until
we can identify his contact?

And, yeah.

Make it look like an
accident if you can.

What? Sir...

I mean, just like that?

The risk of exposing
Culper Jr. far outweighs

any tactical advantage gained
by letting Worthington live.

It's a pity. I rather
liked his sermons.

Ah, there you are.

Securing the garrison
took longer than I expected.

It seems our defenses
have grown sloppy

while the Rangers
have been away.

Has Simcoe left yet?

He's been preparing
his camp all day.

I expect he'll leave
in the morning.

What did Abraham say?

He said he passed his
information on to his contacts.

Did he say how?

No.

Still, it seems our good captain

is in for a lethal surprise.

I thought that you would be more
pleased that your trap has been set.

I...

I'm just a little nervous.

Now that it's all
in motion, I fear...

It's going to work.

It's going to be all right.

Have you ever thought of...

leaving all this behind?

Going home?

- To Scotland?
- Yes.

Yes.

Yes, I admit I have.

This war and my part in it
has proven very different

to what I expected.

Whatever moral certainties
that I naively entertained

have turned to cynicism,

which shames me.

Which makes me all the
more grateful for you.

You're a beacon, Anna,

a light in the darkness

of these past few months.

You're the only person
that I can trust.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Now, now.