Original subtitles

♪ There's no way out ♪

♪ I'm suffocating from the inside out ♪

♪ It's like inside myself, there's no way out ♪

And we're back in "the hot seat,"

with my guest, Lawrence Creff.

Dan, the critics are simply wrong.

As C.E.O. of Halloway Corp, securing Americans

was my business.

Serving as the Undersecretary of Defense

isn't a conflict of interest.

It is the same interest.

I would never betray the trust of the American p...

What's... What's this?

So many lies, Mr. Creff.

What's going on here?

Where to start?

I think we're being hacked.

With the dinner conversation?

What I'm saying, gentlemen, is invest in umbrellas,

because next year, it's gonna be raining money.

Raining money.

Raining... money.

What the hell is this?

Shut this off!

In 1912, Guglielmo Marconi predicted

his invention the radio would put an end to war.

No more miscommunications. No more secrets.

Then, 200 million people were murdered

in the century that followed.

Meanwhile, we came up with better ways to communicate.

We'll be watching.

The Faceless.

None of which, alas, put an end

to lies, miscommunications, or murder.

Morning, Abraham.

Yes, a good morning, indeed.

When another warmongering corporate greedball

gets exposed by The Faceless, it's a damn fine day.

I'm sorry... The Faceless?

That secret hacktivist group.

"Hacktivist"?

Sometimes I forget I'm dealing with a man

who was born before they invented the steam engine.

The, um, anonymous computer guys who break into systems

to expose the lies and corruption of the powerful.

Ah.

Don't you find it ironic that the crusaders for truth

would feel compelled to hide behind a mask?

Well, I never wore a mask, even when Governor Reagan

sicced the national guard on us in 1969.

You didn't need to, with all that hair.

And that mangy beard.

Yes. Hello?

Yes, Jo, he's here.

Oh! Wait. This is technology.

Perhaps I should ask her to write you a note on papyrus.

Name's Eric Shaw.

Landlord said he was late on rent.

Nobody answered, so he let himself in.

This is what he found.

Looks like he died in his sleep.

Could be heart problems.

Lucas, think.

Burst capillaries and pink froth in the airway.

Ah... asphyxiation. Of course.

Right?

No ligature marks or contusions at the neck.

No sign of a struggle.

There's a small scratch on his forehead,

but it healed well before the time of death.

So, how does someone asphyxiate lying in bed alone?

Mercaptan.

It's a compound they add to natural gas

to give it that unique smell.

See, gas is heavier than air,

so it settles down to the ground.

It's not poisonous, but it displaces oxygen,

which can lead very easily to asphyxiation.

From the dust on these dials,

no one touched the stove in some time.

This guy doesn't strike me as the cooking type.

Oh! Whoa!

Hey, what the hell is this?

Oh. That was his alarm.

Yeah, he's got the whole place

wired on a timer through his phone.

Okay, now I smell gas.

O-kay.

Pilot's out.

Now, how would you turn this off?

Wired thermostat.

He can control that with his phone, too.

You mean someone could have

turned the gas on and off remotely?

If he can hack into the system, sure.

Oh. I think we got something here.

Uh, yeah. Y-y-you know what that is?

That's... That's the Faceless.

The computer enthusiasts from the news?

They're called hackers, doc,

and... and I believe that we should be leaving now,

because they're probably watching us as we speak.

Oh. Yep.

Yep, right there. Okay, guys, come on.

All right, maybe you guys don't have anything to hide,

but, um, I have some photos and some web searches

that I'm not very proud of,

and I'd rather not have my secrets leaked to the world.

Synced by emmasan www.addic7ed.com

Talked to Eric's co-workers.

Same story from everyone... Nice guy, kept to himself.

We're canvassing his neighborhood now

to see if they saw anyone.

You won't find anything that way.

The Faceless aren't nerds screwing around in the basement.

They're a secretive political organization.

Cyberterrorists is what they are.

Um, and you guys are...?

Cybercrimes Division. Can we set up here?

I didn't know you guys did murder.

Here's what we have.

We got Eric's online alias off his laptop,

which confirmed he's a member of the Faceless.

Didn't get much else

because the laptop fried itself when we touched it.

And we have the murder weapon... His thermostat.

It received a system-command reboot

that killed the pilot light at 1:00 A.M.

That activated the gas and then turned it off at 4:00.

And that's it?

Well, we have suspects.

Last year, the Faceless targeted

11 figures in business and government.

Very powerful people

with the means and motives to kill him.

We can cross-check these names

with a list of suspects that were in the city.

All due respect, detective, this isn't

the simple street stuff you're used to dealing with.

That signal could have come from anywhere in the world.

Once we have the warrants,

we can trace the I.P. path the hack followed,

and we can have a terminal point...

within the day.

And we just...?

Relax. We got this.

Relax?

I can relax.

Hm.

Great news.

Cybercrimes Division is on the case.

Cybercrimes Division? There is such a thing?

Yeah, we got computer dating, computer viruses.

Why not computer cops?

Press a button... boom. Who needs actual evidence?

What do you have?

Time of death was between 3:40 and 4:00 A.M.

Two days ago.

Victim was otherwise in good health,

with no suspicious marks or injuries.

What is that?

The victim's last meal...

Pasta nero, squid ink.

Otherwise, Eric Shaw died as he lived...

With his secrets hidden.

Maybe they're right.

Murder by computer, solved by computer.

Do you suddenly feel very old?

Yes, I do know the feeling.

Did they confirm how the gas was triggered?

Remotely, between 1:00 A.M. and 4:00 A.M.

Hmm.

So gas flows anywhere in between

120 and 200 cubic feet per hour.

Wouldn't have filled the room, but he was in bed.

So fatal density would have to reach,

say, 2 to 3 feet off the ground.

It could work.

"Could"?

Well, most likely.

But there's only one way to find out for sure.

How's that?

We go gas ourselves.

Now you're talkin'.

So, hypothetically, can you guys work it

so I can get the full NFL package

without paying for all the other stuff?

Detective, I have a master's in computer science from M.I.T.

So that's a yes?

That means I'm not the cable guy.

Got an I.P.

No relay commands.

Boom.

Detective, we got a terminal I.P.

A-a what?

The computer that killed him.

That's all there is to it?

Not bad.

Guess there are worse ways to go.

True.

Fire, for instance... every nerve in agony.

Hmm.

Drowning... the panic.

Mm.

Although physiologically, not so far removed from this.

You want to avoid things involving sensory nerves...

Being flayed, slow dismemberment.

Oh, and starvation. Takes longer than you think.

Your body floods with toxins from your liver

as you slowly digest your own tissues.

Your brain atrophies. You literally lose your mind.

Mm.

Why death, Henry?

Feeling existential, detective?

Perhaps the gas is working.

No, I mean...

Why did you choose death?

What happened to you?

Did you grow up next to a cemetery or something?

I mean, your file says you were a gravedigger.

Yes, right.

I guess...

I enjoy solving puzzles.

I mean, what greater riddle is there?

Well, what's to solve?

You want to live forever?

Not exactly.

Then what exactly?

Time's up.

No, Henry! What are you doing?

Well, the levels are quite low.

See, this window is badly sealed.

Some of the gas would have escaped here.

It might have rendered him unconscious, but...

He didn't asphyxiate.

Oh, no, he did.

But not from the gas.

There are four ways a man can asphyxiate...

Strangulation, blocked airway, inert-gas inhalation,

compression of chest and diaphragm.

I'm missing something.

Time for a closer look.

If we are doing blades and cutting,

I might just go get a coffee.

Oh, this won't take long.

There.

A faint contusion around the mouth,

hidden by the beard.

A hand, perhaps.

He was unconscious,

so it would've only taken a slight pressure.

So our killer was in the apartment.

Mm. Hey.

Look at this. Not eating breakfast at my desk.

I dig this new way of fighting crime.

Yes, about that.

We did a test, and the rate at which gas

- displaces air... - Oh. Did I mention?

We got the guy.

Wait. You have a suspect?

Lawrence Creff?

Yeah, these guys, they, um,

they traced the signal... Whatever... from his laptop.

He was with his laptop?

Witnesses put Creff in his condo with the laptop that night.

It wasn't him.

We traced the command payload to Shaw's thermostat I.P.

Through a randomized botnet path,

which we backtracked and confirmed.

We gassed ourselves, shaved a corpse,

and determined whoever killed Shaw

did it by hand in his apartment.

Yeah, if Creff was home,

that proves he didn't kill Eric Shaw.

You shaved a corpse?

The idea that I killed Eric Shaw,

either in person or with my computer,

is so ludicrous that I won't even wait for my lawyer.

I was with my wife and our tax attorney all night.

So, what are you saying? Someone framed your computer?

Who'd even think of that or know how?

The Faceless spring to mind, no?

Okay. Here are the shots of the contusions.

I timed it with a little bit of extra blue there

to bring out the lividity.

Hey.

Lucas, assistant M.E.

Tasteful, huh?

Oh, sorry. In homicide, we're all rather used to dead bodies.

The... gross stuff, it grosses me out.

Well, it's not that gross.

It doesn't look like that, you know?

The smell is what really gets to you, though.

I can give you a tour a-anytime, O.C.M.E.

Just come on down. I'll probably be there.

So...

It's a little strong.

Maybe try again... A bit more subtly.

Oh.

Copy that.

- Where was this? - What I'm saying, gentlemen,

is invest in umbrellas, because next year,

- it's gonna be raining money. - Pac fundraiser.

They must have hacked the security footage.

Where'd the sound come from?

Security cameras shoot images.

Somebody planted a microphone.

Impossible.

Everyone is vetted, from guests down to cater-waiters.

They don't pay 10 grand a plate for pasta nero if we're lax.

Eric Shaw's last meal was squid-ink pasta.

Do you recall the caterer?

I don't hire the help.

You can ask my assistant.

This one?

Great.

This is how it is now?

Does no one have any damn privacy anymore?

I know that hero doctor.

This really wasn't necessary.

Henry, you saved the life of a little boy.

I thought it was heroic.

And clearly, the newspaper did, too.

It's inspiring. People want to read about it.

That's debatable.

I really don't see the need for that display.

The chief administrator

thinks it's good promotion for the hospital...

Mercy doctors, saving lives on and off the job.

I'd want to be saved by you.

Henry, is there something you haven't told me?

A secret, perhaps?

No. Why?

Because there's a woman in the waiting room

who says she's your wife.

I'm Dr. Morgan. You wanted to see me?

When I saw your picture in the paper,

I-I didn't believe it.

But it's true.

Henry, it's really you.

My husband.

Stop, Henry! Don't do this!

I can prove that what I told you is real.

I'm immortal.

You're sick, Henry. They can help you here.

Nora.

Nora!

Nora-a-a-a-a-a!!

Nora.

Ah. What do you have there?

You know, that Faceless stuff

got me thinking about my old activist days,

you know, students against the war.

Hey, there's eggs, if you're hungry.

Yes, I wanted to ask you about that.

In an activist group, you've got devoted individuals

with strong-held, high ideals.

Did things ever get tense between you?

Well, it could.

I remember we had a daylong screaming fight

over whether to say "unjust" or "unfair" on a sign.

But the biggest hassles, they were the personal dramas,

you know, who's mean, who's bossy,

who just smokes weed.

Oh, my God, look at that.

Julie Moskowitz.

She joined in '68. I fell hard.

She fooled around with this guy Ira Bing.

Big mess.

See, that's the problem with activism.

No matter how high the ideals, you're just human.

We'd have ended that war years earlier

if she hadn't come around.

If there's a girl involved, watch out.

Sure, we catered Lawrence Creff's fundraiser last month,

but he didn't work it.

Did he ever have pasta nero here? No clue.

I see hundreds of people a day.

Can we get a list of everyone that worked the fundraiser?

Let me look it up.

We already did this with Mr. Creff's people.

We vetted all the waitstaff.

Excuse me.

We're looking in the kitchen?

Half the workers in a kitchen restaurant are undocumented...

Part-time, in and out, often not vetted.

You must be the first dishwasher I've ever met

with Boltzmann's entropy formula tattooed on her shoulder.

I'm Dr. Henry Morgan,

and this is Detective Jo Martinez, NYPD.

You're the first cop I've ever met

that knows Boltzmann's entropy formula.

Is there a reason you're hassling me?

I don't want to lose this job.

Murder investigation. His name's Eric Shaw.

You ever seen him before? Has he ever been here?

Nope.

I believe you knew him.

Intimately.

Like I said, I've never seen him.

Then you wouldn't mind coming down to the station

so I could compare the stud in your eyebrow

to the scratch we found on the victim's forehead?

Yes, if you were kissing, it would be right here.

Is he serious?

Always.

All right. Let me just wipe this off.

Oh, hell!

Okay, there she is.

What the hell?

Be careful.

Okay, red light.

We got her.

You guys okay?

What the hell was that, with the lights?

It's like...

Someone's controlling them.

Her cellphone.

I love technology.

What have you been able to glean regarding this Faceless woman?

Liz Chamberlain. Address, phone, social.

All of it is on file at work, and all of it is fake.

Girl's a total ghost.

But the print we pulled off the phone she dropped was real.

She's in the system?

Oh, yeah... Vandalism, B&E.

Oh, check out why she got kicked out of Caltech.

Posted names and addresses of guys

who visited kiddie-porn sites.

I kind of like this chick.

Oh, the, uh, Wonder Twins were over here

monkeying with the phone, doing who knows what.

Unlocking it, actually.

You were able to determine

how she could change the traffic lights?

She had someone do it for her.

Her last text was to a known cybercriminal.

We've dealt with him before.

Calls himself Warlock.

Warlock?

I'm gonna get unis on this one right now.

Send extra.

And don't let them anywhere near a computer.

Tell me how a computerengineering hacktivist

ends up washing dishes.

Lying low?

Perhaps she wanted a fresh start.

By hooking up with the Faceless?

Yes, well...

Sometimes the life we wish to leave behind... finds us.

How are you feeling today, Mrs...

Morgan.

Mrs. Henry Morgan.

I never remarried, Henry.

Yes. You took a nasty fall.

I believe you're a bit dazed still.

And you're still my Henry...

My husband.

Please don't deny me this joy.

You denied me, as I recall.

Nora, please! Tell them!

Nora!!

You sent me to a lunatic asylum.

I was wrong. I know that now.

You are immortal.

It is a miracle.

That is a secret,

and I intend to keep it that way.

Oh, Henry, no.

You have conquered death.

When I saw your picture in the paper,

it was a sign to me

that we must share this miracle with the world.

You ruined my life once before, Nora.

No one must know.

So... You're the infamous Warlock.

I asked for a soda.

Grape. I only drink grape.

We don't have any grape.

Listen, Bernard Belcic, I am Detective...

Jo Martinez, badge number 1183,

one credit card, no balance,

$11 in late fees

for BBC's "Pride and Prejudice" DVDs at the library.

Detective Hanson...

Let's just stop right there.

And that's just my smartphone.

You want to bully me?

I'm fully capable of bullying back.

Nobody's bullying you.

We don't care about Faceless.

What we do care about is Eric Shaw's murder.

Well, I didn't do it, so why bother me?

Because I suspect that if we dust the grape-soda cans

that we found at Eric's place, we might find your prints.

Fine. Yeah.

I was at Eric's place the night he died.

What were you doing there?

Group meeting.

This group... It's you and Eric?

And Liz.

But she showed up... right before I left.

They were together?

Yeah.

Were.

I found out Eric boned this other chick,

and I kind of told Liz,

so... that's when I left.

I figured... it was gonna get awkward.

Eric was cheating on Liz?

W-which I don't get.

I'd never cheat on Liz. She's hot.

She's a genius, too.

Why would she come to you for help?

She was in a hurry.

She didn't have her copy of the city codes.

City codes?

City passcodes,

like a backdoor key into the entire municipal system,

access to everything... Databases, grids...

Traffic signals.

- Times Square jumbotron. - Anything.

Eric got them.

Hack of the century.

Any idea where we can find your friend Liz?

If she doesn't want to be found...

Good luck.

Who...

Is...

This?

You are the slowest typer ever.

"Typist."

Whatever.

I did some digging.

Your social security number, medical credentials,

and birth certificate

all seem to just appear in the system six years ago.

I find that very interesting.

I imagine your colleagues would, too.

Why would, uh, something like that

be so interesting to you?

There are a lot of people after me,

and disappearing sounds pretty appealing.

And, uh, how do you expect me to help you?

Well, you want to disappear,

an official death certificate is a pretty good start.

I'm not gonna give you a fraudulent medical report.

Now you're concerned with ethics?

How about when you were cooking up

a fake med-school degree from the University of Guam?

Or your bogus work history as an undertaker?

Yeah.

That's what I thought.

I will be in touch with details, Dr. Morgan...

Or whoever you are.

Have a nice night.

So, this lady just pops up on the computer

and threatens blackmail?

Mm.

She's one of the Faceless.

She hacked my personal file.

So, what does she want?

She wants me to kill her.

Provide her with a fraudulent death certificate...

Her own.

Or else what?

She'll go to the NYPD, tell them that I'm a fraud.

Oh.

What do I do, Abe?

Are you sure that's the right question?

What do you mean?

Well, remember what happened last time

the truth about your condition came out?

I mean, uh, Nora.

You do remember how that ended?

I haven't forgotten.

Well, then, I guess the question is,

what are you willing to do to keep your secret?

The gloves are off, Liz Chamberlain.

Say hello to my little friend.

You get all this stuff from the set of "Star Trek"?

Cybercrimes and Homeland Security, joint task force.

Have you finished mapping her facial architecture?

Sending it to you now.

Now we just run her mug through the D.A.S.

And we wait for a match.

D.A.S.?

Domain awareness system.

It's a network of over 6,000 cameras blanketing Manhattan.

Someone so much as picks their nose on this island,

we can catch them.

That's a comforting thought.

Like it or not, the age of anonymity is over.

I didn't see any of this online.

Your real life, Dr. Morgan,

or just a deeper level of your disguise?

Hot.

You're into blondes.

That's no business of yours.

Okay.

Let's talk my business.

My death certificate.

You killed Eric Shaw.

Surely, you understand that...

I didn't kill... Eric.

I loved Eric.

You wouldn't understand,

but when you are the only people who share a secret, it is...

Deeply intense... yes.

It must have been unbearable when he cheated on you.

Eric didn't cheat. It was social engineering.

That's how Eric got the passcodes.

He met someone with access, seduced them,

and copied the codes.

You know who?

He didn't say.

Your conscience is clean. I'm not a killer.

Bingo. Motorcycle girl.

From the feed, 20 minutes ago.

She was on the corner of 23rd and 7th Avenue, heading into the subway.

Damn it.

What happened?

Uh, the camera on the platform is down.

Someone must have spray-painted over it.

Pull up views of every stop on that line,

and you... get ready to roll.

The rat has to surface sometime.

Do me a favor.

Remind me never to piss you kids off.

I am a fugitive with a criminal record,

my life is a ruin,

my boyfriend was just murdered,

and I might be next.

My death certificate.

Please.

One click,

and your partner knows your entire life is a lie.

You got to start over. Why shouldn't I?

You may think it's a new beginning,

but the running never ends.

The secrets can never be buried deep enough.

Exposure always looms,

and you can never, ever be your full, true self...

Even with those you love.

The new life you seek never actually begins.

I'll take my chances.

As will I.

You live by a code?

So do I.

Well.

Your funeral.

We've got Liz on the live feed.

She's on Houston, headed west.

We're less than three blocks away.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

What happened?!

What the...

She just stepped out in front of a green light!

Call an ambulance.

Where's Henry when we need him?

She's on life support.

Doctor says it's a 50/50 chance she wakes up.

Yeah. Witnesses say she just walked right in front of a car.

Why would she kill herself?

She must have known we were coming.

We were only a block away.

Maybe she's tired of running.

What do you see?

Liz was struck on her left side

while walking west on Houston.

She was on the south side of the street.

She only had to step off the curb to kill herself,

but she was well across the street...

And never turned towards traffic.

Most suicide victims flinch from their fate

at the last moment.

Yeah, she was looking straight ahead.

I believe Liz crossed when the light told her to.

Someone killed her.

No.

A hacker killed her.

They broke into the transit system

and manipulated the "walk" signal.

Like Bernard manipulated the stoplights to help Liz.

Let's bring him in.

He could try to kill her here.

Go to the hospital server. I want this ward locked down.

Anything that's connecting life support to a network,

cut it.

Henry? You coming?

I think I can help here... In case she wakes up.

Dr. Morgan?

Dr. Morgan?

Dr. Morgan, have you heard?

Remember the old woman,

the one who claimed to be your wife?

Oh, yes. Uh, she had very mild hysteria.

We sent her home.

She's here... now.

She came back raving about crazy things.

They plan to send her to the asylum.

No, that's wrong.

She's only confused.

Madam.

"Nora."

You always called me Nora.

Listen...

Nora, you need rest.

I know it's you, Henry.

What are you doing?

You deny your gift, but I can prove it.

The world must know this miracle.

Henry!

No!

Henry!

Henry!

You guys have to do something!

They're hunting us down!

Bernard, listen to me.

Whoever did this was using those city codes.

Now, it wasn't Eric. I'm pretty sure it wasn't Liz.

I'm no math genius, but...

I didn't do it. I couldn't.

Like, technically, I couldn't do it.

I don't have access to the city network anymore.

They changed the codes.

Who changed the codes?

The NYPD.

One of you guys.

I got to talk to Cybercrimes.

Keith, stay in the computer room.

I want to know if anyone tries to tap into the hospital system.

Is this the future of murder?

Killing someone from miles away with a keystroke?

This must be difficult for you...

Looking at her like this.

Why do you say that?

"The gross stuff grosses me out."

I believe those were your words.

When did I s...

Oh, right.

Yeah.

You were Eric's lover.

You didn't look away from "gross stuff."

You looked away from the image of Eric Shaw,

your lover, dead.

He seduced you, didn't he?

And he stole the codes, and then he went back to Liz.

So you killed him, and then you tried to kill her.

One thing I do wonder...

Why did you go back to the apartment?

I had to wipe his computer.

And you found him there still alive.

Barely.

I-I just had to...

You know what it's like, Dr. Morgan.

You work so hard to build a career and a life,

and then you meet someone,

and they end up being the one slip

that destroys everything.

Yes.

I can well imagine what that feels like.

I'm sure you can.

We all have our secrets, Dr. Morgan.

Let's talk about yours.

I found this on my terminal.

Liz in your antique store just before she was hit.

I saw this, and I thought, "huh.

These guys ran into each other, and they didn't say anything?

Why?"

So I did what all good hackers do.

I dug into your records,

which appear to be fake.

She's going into shock.

Why aren't the alarms sounding?

They won't.

We disconnected her from the hospital system.

Let her go, Dr. Morgan.

Our secrets die with her.

Save her, and I will destroy you.

Your face will be all over the Internet.

Try to start a new life with that following you.

Whatever it is you're running from,

it will catch up to you.

Do you understand me?

Yes.

Code blue. Code blue.

Got respiratory failure here.

Stand by.

She's gone into shock.

We need to move her to another system.

This one has been compromised.

In respiratory failure.

We're in cardiac arrest, people!

Okay, okay. Got to go. Bye.

That was Keith. Bernie was right.

Codes were changed last night.

Who did it? Who changed the codes?

You're not gonna believe it.

Irene.

Irene!

Irene!

A call came in. They're looking for you.

It's over, Keith.

Is something wrong?

The secret's out. That's what's wrong.

What did you do?

Everybody's gonna know...

How they used me like a fool and what I did.

Get a doctor!

Get some help!

I'm sorry, Lucas.

There's no way you could have known she was a killer.

Mm.

But what if it was the evil I was attracted to?

Anyway...

Cause of death?

Detective Martinez.

For once, the simplest theory is the right one...

Suicide.

Mm. Hanson will be happy to hear that.

Lucas, do you mind gmng us a second?

Oh, I can just shut off my ears. It's a skill that I have.

Okay. Leaving.

So, I got a strange e-mail.

Said I should look into some of your records.

How strange.

Did you?

Yeah, I took a look.

You've been keeping secrets from me, Henry.

This whole gravedigging business,

your degree from Guam...

Before you go any further...

You went to Oxford?

Top of your class?

Yes.

Guam was a refresher program.

I found the degree from Oxford a tad ostentatious.

Right. Only you.

Well, you're starting to make

a bit more sense to me, Dr. Morgan.

Just a bit.

Howdy.

They gave you a computer?

It's the nurse's.

I am doing free I.T. in exchange for access.

You made changes to my past.

Filled in some blanks.

I don't think anyone else will find you now.

Thank you.

And what about Liz Chamberlain?

Is she disappearing?

Doubtful.

You made it sound pretty rough.

I can only imagine what you must be running from.

I'm not sure you can imagine.

None of my business.

Everybody deserves their secrets.

Perhaps privacy is a thing of the past.

In the future, everything about us

will be available with the touch of a button...

Who's fallen in love, who's gotten sick,

who's having an affair.

Maybe it's a good thing...

A future without secrets.

Of course, those of us with a few more years

value our privacy.

We've made our mistakes and survived them.

It's not that we want to keep these secrets from others.

Usually, we're keeping them from ourselves.

You've gone deep, Henry.

That's your early 19thcentury stuff.

Mm.

The case reminded me of someone.

Yeah, I heard about it on the news.

Hey! Was I right? Was it about a woman?

No. Sorry, Abraham.

Oh.

Mm.

There were two women.

Ha! I knew it.

No matter the decade, I know how young people think.

See, they think with their hearts, and they think with...

Congratulations.

Hey, speaking about two women,

did I ever tell you about the time that I...

Abraham, please!

I'm your father.

All right. The secret will stay with me.

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