All language subtitles for Jane.the.Virgin.S04E12.WEBRip.x264-ION10-1

- Alrighty, friends.
- We left Jane and Rafael

dating in secret.
But they decided

it was time to come out
of the closet.

We should tell our family
that we're together.

- Not going as well?
- Jane's writing.

See, she had gotten
a bad book review,

and ever since,
she had been totally lost.

My career is nowhere.

I don't have an agent,
a publisher, an idea.

- Also lost?
- Rafael's real parents.

Actually, buddy,
I don't know who they are.

Jane had an opinion.

I think you should look
for your birth parents.

I know. What a mystery.

Which reminds me,
Petra's lawyer, J.R.,

had been working
with a mystery person

to make sure Petra
went to jail. Only then,

she had a change of heart,
so she told Petra everything.

You planted the screws.

No. It must have
been the blackmailer.

Your mother, I can only assume.

She promised Petra
she'd help her.

Oh, and complicating that,

Petra's sexy dream.

So yeah, straight out
of a telenovela, right?

Well, imagine this. Jane's
father was trying to bring

The Passions of Santos
to America,

but was having trouble
casting a costar,

which had left him
distracted from his new wife.

I'm just trying
to figure out my life,

which you would have noticed
if you paid attention.

And Xiomara? Well,

she said she was going
to teach a dance class

and then ended up here.

I know. OMG, right?

So let's see what happens next.

It is a truth universally known

that everyone's a critic.

I don't like that pillow.

Especially Jane.

It never existed.

- So?
- It's perfect.

My family's gonna freak.

Oh, they're gonna lose
their minds.

Rafael's apartment
looks good,

but it's not exactly
HGTV-worthy.

My abuela's head
might actually explode.

It is a nice picture,
but I don't know

if it's a head exploder.

Perfect.

I was thinking that that
could be your nightstand.

For when you stay over.

I don't know
how my dad's gonna feel.

And my mom is
the real wild card.

She could go either way.

No way. Deep down,

I think she always wanted us
to be together.

Oh! Doi!

They're talking about telling
everyone they're dating.

Someone's definitely gonna cry.

Yeah. You.

- What are we waiting for?
- Let's see those reactions!

We have news.

We're dating!

Pay up, you two.

Ma, not fair!
Just because...

Tough cookies.
İt was today,

of all days!
I don't want to hear excuses.

You got to pick
your day first, Alba.

Just give me the cash.
Fine, take it.

What's going on?

She won the bet
when you'd tell us.

You guys knew?
For weeks.

You were pretty obvious.
The whole "pulled muscle" thing?

Rafael was just, uh,
helping me with,

uh, my, um...
Drawers.

I know a sex injury
when I see one.

Yeah, you do.

I honestly thought
that double date with Chris

would break you...

Seriously?
Everybody knew?

Well, not everyone...

I can't believe this!

My heart feels like... Like...

It's glowing?
Yeah!

Exactly! Like it's glowing!

Called it.

Okay. We have
to be careful here.

- Petra can be...
- Bitchy.

Tricky. I felt very much
on the outside

when you guys were dating, so
I just want to be sensitive.

You look surprised.

Shocked, actually.

This is why you called
an important family meeting

in the middle of the day?

To tell me you're dating?

What is this,
sophomore year of high school?

Did he ask you to prom?
Are you aware

that I am currently
under investigation for murder?

Just trying to be mindful.
We weren't thinking...

You're together.

What did you want, fireworks?

No. Of course not.

Okay. Now, if
you'll excuse me,

I have an important meeting with
my criminal defense attorney

to discuss strategies
to keep me out of prison.

But many happy returns
to the new couple.

Anything?

It's been two days!

How've we not heard from them?

Petra, calm down.
You calm down!

Someone's trying to frame me
for murder!

And I'm working on it.

By doing what?
And do not say

"waiting."
Waiting.

Maybe it's you. Maybe you
still work with them.

I'm not.
You could be! You were.

And what do I really know

about you?
Petra, stop.

Breathe.

We're in this together, okay?

I'm not working for anyone else.

If you go down,

I go down.

Now, did you make the list?

Yes.

This is everyone
I could think of

who might want
to see me behind bars.

Pammy the Parrot?

The guy who plays
the parrot at the Marbella.

I'm often quite short with him.

What's his name?

I don't know his name.

I call him Parrot Guy.

That's also why
he's on the list.

Okay.

I'll check out Parrot Guy.

Ah, what a seamless transition.

Go write.
I'll see you later.

And if anything comes
from Italy...?

Rafael was searching

for his biological mother.

I will wait to open it with you.

Not remind you
so much as tell you,

he decided to look for her.
You nervous?

Because if you want
to talk or anything,

I can stay and
we can take a walk.

I know what you're doing.

I'm not avoiding writing!
You're avoiding writing.

Okay, a little.
That's because

there's nothing to write about!

Then sit in front of the
computer and stare at it.

Go.

Ooh! Looks like Jane's
actually making progress.

- Oh!
- Sorry,

I didn't want to interrupt,

just wanted to bring you dinner.

Aw, thank you.

Anything I can read?

No, not yet.

İs that a letter?
Mm...

Hmm?

What's going on?

If you must know...

I'm writing a response to the
critic who gave me a bad review.

What?
I thought you were past that.

I was.

But then I went
on my book page on Amazon...

You know,
to bolster my confidence,

remind myself that I'm
a published freaking author...

And they linked that review.

The first thing anyone sees
when they go to buy my book

is a reason to not buy my book.

- Ay, mi amor.
- And I reread it.

And, honestly, this guy just
didn't get what I was doing.

He said that the main character
was cringeworthy at times.

What? How dare he?

But that's the point.

People aren't perfect.
Ever heard of Walt Whitman, sir?

"Do I contradict myself? Very
well, then, I contradict myself,

I am large,
I contain multitudes"!

And you put that in the letter?

I certainly did.
And I called him out

on his cultural bias.

I mean,
too much magical realism?

I hate this guy.

Maybe he's never heard of the
author Gabriel García Márquez.

Márquez says magical realism
runs through our streets.

Good point.
Right?

See, this guy read it all wrong.

I mean, he says "derivative"...

I say "homage."

And maybe it "fell flat" to him,

but maybe it's just
his warped white male lens.

Well said.

Mm!

And obviously you're not
going to send that letter...

I know, I know.

That would be
"over the top."

Which I'm not.

Okay, you need
to stop reading that article.

I know. You're right.

I need to move forward.

I told her I just
want to move forward.

Actually, I told her doorman,

because River will not see
or speak to me.

It was ridiculous.

Obviously,
we got off on the wrong foot.

I'll remind you
why that wording is poor.

Attack her!

But now she's just being
a nine-toed drama queen.

Now the network wants me
to write her a letter

begging her to do the show?

Rogelio de la Vega doesn't beg!

Except for my wife's
forgiveness.

I've been focused
on myself again.

Old habits die hard.

Please, how are you?

I want to only hear about you.

I'm good.

Work's been busy,
because I've been

covering for a teacher
who's sick.

Who's sick?

Hmm?

That you're covering for.

Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm not used

to all the questions.

Rory.
Rory's sick.

Sorry. I have
to take this.

Also suspicious?

Okay. Now call Petra.

No!

Don't read that review again!

Ugh. Derivative

and uninspired.

That reviewer was
a hundred percent right.

Only he sugarcoated it.

No. This isn't healthy.

Choose to ignore.

I'm not going anywhere.

Here's the truth.

An outrageous series
of events happened to you,

and you exploited it for the
sake of a novel, and it sold.

But without that,
you'd be nowhere.

Like I said,
everyone's a critic.

Admit it, Jane.
You're a fraud.

Especially Jane.

Yes!

Just the person I need to see!

How does this sound?
Okay.

"Dear River, I'm begging you,

"don't miss out on the greatest
opportunity of your career

"just because I accidentally
got you attacked by a wolf.

"To do so would be
a huge mistake in a career

littered with mistakes..."

What? What are you doing?
Why are you deleting?

You have to be, like,

a hundred times more humble.

Where's Mom?

Ah, yes, my wife,

International Woman of Mystery.

She's not here.

Early shift. Again.

Why are you saying it like that?

Because your mom has been
distant and secretive lately.

Dad?
Hmm?

Don't let your
telenovela instincts

get the better of you.

You're probably right.

I just miss her.

Why don't you
do something special,

just the two of you?

Yes?
Mm-hmm.

That's a wonderful idea.

I will go all-out!

A Xogelio Extravaganza!

Again, check your
telenovela instincts.

Small and intimate works too.

Yes, yes, yes, you're right.

Smart advice
from my brilliant daughter.

Oh.
Let me return the favor.

What did you need?
How can I help?

It's nothing.

I wanted to vent
because I'm blocked.

Need a laxative? Poo Nami?

With my writing.
Writer's block.

Because I can't get my bad
review out of my head.

I'm going to show you something.

Something no one
has ever seen before.

Open it.

It's my Failure Folder.

The bleakest, most soul-crushing
reviews of my career.

Geez, Dad, these are harsh.

Yes. And had I let them
get into my head,

I would have never become
the successful,

prolific actor
standing before you.

How did you do it?
I rebranded them.

This is no longer
my Failure Folder.

It is my Motivation Folder.

All these harsh words
from bitter, mean critics?

They're nothing but fuel,

urging me to overcome,
show them all.

Well, that's good advice, Dad,

but it's a little different

for me because...
I know. I'm a star,

but normal people
can be resilient too.

No, but I'm literally stuck.

I can't write.

Get the critic
out of your head!
No, but...

I'm hearing a lot
of "no, buts."

I want to hear
more "yes, and."

"Yes, and." It's perfect!
Huh?

"Yes, and" is the first rule
of improv.

That's the cure
for your writer's block.

Take an improv class!
I'm a genius.

There's that lack
of confidence.

What does improv have
to do with writing?

It's a way to get
your creative juices flowing

without worrying
about actual writing.

It'll force you
to stop self-censoring,

to dive in and commit
to new ideas.

I'm not an actor, Dad.
Who cares?

It's to help you
think on your feet.

- Reclaim your creative self.
- Yeah.

Your derivative,
uninspired self.

Come on, Jane.
You can't.

You know what?
Yes, I'll sign up.

Yes!

Onstage failure. Huh.

What a dramatic twist.

Which brings us here, now.

Petra?

I knew I couldn't trust you...

I'm being followed.
I think it's the blackmailer.

I'm gonna kiss you again,

and then we're gonna
get back in the car.

Who's following you?

I don't know.

Someone's been
tailing me all day.

Do you know anyone with a
late model olive green sedan?

Ew. No.

What the hell were you
doing here anyway?

I was supposed to meet
with the blackmailers.

No, you weren't.

I planted that burner phone,
I sent those texts.

What?

To see if you'd actually
reach out to me

if you heard from them,
which you didn't.

Only because I'm being followed!

And you've been so strung out!

I don't want to risk you
messing anything up.

They're still watching.

I know that.

Now what?

I'll tell them you were
getting suspicious,

so I had to seduce you.

Must be my cell.

Too many phones.

We have to go.
It's my mom.

It's a marriage record.
My mom's.

This must be the letter

they were expecting from Italy.

What does it say?

She married someone
named Angello Amalberti.

So maybe her name is
Camilla Amalberti now?

Should we look her up?

If you're not ready...

Uh, I am.

Let's do it.

Here's a match.
She looks the right age.

Let's me see if I can
find out where she's from.

Oh, my God.

Rafael, I think this is her.

Wow.

That's my mom.

I can't believe
that's really her.

She looks...

kind, doesn't she?

She really does.

And you can see a little
family resemblance?

- Maybe?
- Definitely.

What do you want to do?

Uh, write her.
Oh.

And now before I lose my nerve.

Mom?

We gave her a sedative.

She was disoriented, very upset.

Are you okay?

I don't know if it
was the right thing,

putting her here.

Is that...?

Yes, it's them.

Okay, what now?

Oh, I text them back
our cover story.

You were suspicious,

I seduced you so
I can get closer to you

and force you to
incriminate yourself.

You think they'll believe that?

What?
That I was seduced.

I wouldn't worry.

You were pretty into that kiss.

What? No, I wasn't.

Text them back,
make it convincing.

Don't be nervous.

Getting out of your comfort zone
is what improv is all about.

And remember, Jane, you have
highly-gifted actor's blood

coursing through your veins!

- Thanks, Dad.
- No, thank you

for the advice.
I'm on my way

to surprise your mother
with a night of romance.

Didn't go too big, did you?

Well...

She will love it.

Good luck at improv,
and remember, "yes, and"!

Got it. On it.

Hello, good sir.

I'm here for the enchanting
Xiomara de la Vega.

Xo isn't working today.

Are you sure?
Yup.

Hasn't been in all week.

Oh.

Okay. Thanks.

- Establish a location.
- That's rule number

three of improv.

Rule number two...

Add new information.

And rule number one?

Yes, and.
Exactly, which means

accept what is given to you

and add on to it. Get it?

- Got it.
- Good.

Let's get you up on your feet.

Oh, no.
You mean, "Oh, yes."

Sorry. Oh, yes! And...

here I go.

Great. Mark, join her.

Class, what is he holding?

A microphone.

Hello, New York.
Bob Edgars here

with Mrs. Phyllis Runkle.

Mrs. Runkle, I understand that
you were the sole eyewitness

to the theft of the Statue
of Liberty late last night?

Just say whatever pops
into your head.

Except that.

Don't say that.

Did the thieves steal
anything else?

Her voice, apparently.

Come on, Jane.
Remember the rules of improv.

Yes, and...

Don't be derivative, Jane.
I can't bear it.

Nope. Don't say that.
It's painfully prosaic.

Did you catch
a glimpse of their faces?

Yes. I saw the thieves, and

they took the Statue of Liberty

and my virginity.

By force.

And it was scary, and...

Stop.

This is the house.

Take your hands off my wife,
you thieving, toned bastard.

I will rip you limb from limb!

So much for not letting
telenovela instincts

get the better of him.

Rogelio! Stop!
No!

I know about the affair.

Affair?

Brad's my dance partner.

We entered a competition.

You expect me to believe that?

Yes.
Hey!

Get your hands off my boyfriend.

So-so he-he-he really is...

My dance partner. Yes.

I can't believe you thought
I'd cheat on you.

I'm sorry.

I-I think that
being home all day

has made me a little crazy.

But why did you lie?

I was... embarrassed.

It's just a little
dance contest.

I mean, compared to what you do.

This isn't about me.

I guess... I'm just feeling
a little lost,

and I wanted to have fun

and rediscover
my love of dancing.

So let me support that.

I promise, Xiomara,

I will not make it all about me.

♪ Xiomara... ♪

Not now, driver!

No. Improv is not for me.

I totally bombed.

No way I'm going back there.

What?

You can't quit,
it's only been a day.

I can and I am.

Would you let me quit?

Okay, shut up.
I'll start my homework.

Bright side?
You love homework.

What are you doing?

My homework. This week
I'm supposed to observe

the people around me and really
notice their gestures and quirks

and then use them
to write up a character.

Okay.

So, uh, what else are
you observing about me?

You want to stop talking
and just have sex.

Nice work.
I think your homework

is done for the night.

Mmm.

Okay. Now you're about
to get sappy.

I just feel so...
Hmm.

Happy... here.

With you, in this apartment

that still smells like hot dogs.

And I can't even believe
I am saying that,

but it's true.

It just feels right.

What?

Don't say it, Jane.

Censor yourself.
Bite your tongue.

Nothing.

I'm happy too.

Also biting his tongue...

I... Let's try from
that last eight count.

Five, six, seven, eight.

Ah. Ah.

Ah.

Did you want to say something?

Only that you two dance...

beautifully together.

It's enchanting.

One more time?

Uh, yes.

And we're pushing off
with the left leg.
Right.

Lovely. Wonderful.

Keep it up.

Amazing. Brilliant.

Coming from a
totally casual observer.

Ah, another casual observer.

Jane? Why are you limping?

Did you hurt yourself again?

Oh. No, no. No, no, no.
Just getting back

into waitressing.

Thanks for letting me
pick up shifts.

Did you just giggle?

No.

I do not giggle.

You did. You giggled,

and you're blushing...
Who was that?

No one.

And I'm not.

My God.
You have a crush.

Someone just ask you
to the prom?

No. I do not have a crush,

and no one's going to prom.

And I do not giggle.

I have never giggled in my life.

Giggling is for peasants.

Are you Shrek?

No. I'm being Auntie Petra.

Mm-mm.
Mmm. Yeah.

I think the, uh, accent was

a little confusing.
Mmm.

Like I said,
everyone's a critic.

Okay, what if I do
my dad? He's quirky.

Definitely
a larger-than-life personality.

True dat.
Beautiful. Yes.

Incredible.
I only hope

the camera can capture
your magnificence.

Water break?
Lemon or no lemon?

Oh, uh, lemon.
Oh, my God, no.

No lemon?
Would you like a Gatorade?

You need to make sure to
replenish your electrolytes.

I also cut up some
orange slices,

if you would like...
No!

I don't want any of it.

Just stop it. Enough.

I'll just, um, gonna use
the restroom.

What's going on?
Stop what?

Everything. You.

But I'm not making this
about myself at all.

I'm all about you.
Exactly.

That's the problem.

You're suffocating me.

What?
It's true.

You used to go to work
every day,

so I had alone time,
and I need that,

because, well,

you're such a big personality,
and being around you all day,

every day is exhausting.

But I love being around you
all day, every day.

That's because
I'm not exhausting.

Well, I'm sorry.

I didn't realize how much of my
personality was problematic.

Well that wasn't funny either.

What am I gonna do in class?
Well, it's improv, right?

Can't you just wing it?

No, we have to write them up.

And I took this class to
get away from writing.

It's not a novel.

It doesn't matter what it is.

I have this critic in my head,

judging and second-guessing.

It's crippling.

And, friends,

from experience, that's true.

You can't make progress

if you're constantly
second-guessing yourself.

What's with this critic?

Honestly, it-it happens to me
sometimes.

It's the pressure
of telling such

a fast-paced story.
Talk to me.

I just...

Like, should I tell you
what Jane

was really feeling here,
or not? I will.

I just...

Actually, no.

I'll save it for later.
Let's go back.

I didn't realize how much of my
personality was problematic.

See? Frustrating, right?

You'll recall we left Jane,
mired in...

Self doubt.
Every idea I have,

there's this voice
that won't go away.

What voice?

Me.

My inner critic.

And I can't seem to shut her up.

Why would you want
to shut her up?
Ugh.

I listen to that voice
all the time.

She's got valid points.

Ha.
I'm not kidding.

But if I listen to her,
then that means

I have to accept that
that review was right.

I shouldn't be a writer.

But that's-that's not
what the review said.

Okay, that I'm "derivative
and uninspired."

No, at times "your manufactured

coincidences were
derivative and uninspired."

I read the review
a couple times too.

Well, clearly, he doesn't
think I'm a good writer.

Then why did he say there was
"promise unfulfilled"?

That means you have promise.

And the rest was all just
constructive criticism.

So maybe you shouldn't be trying

to banish this critic.
You should be trying

to see what he said
as productive.

And so, friends, Jane tried.

Don't forget, the reviewer said

you used too many
adjectives before.

Yes, and this time,
I'm going to pare it down.

And he said you shouldn't

be too removed
from your subject.
Yes.

And this time, I'm drawing
straight from my real life.

Hmm. I should go.

We don't want to overdo
the magical realism.

Hey, Dad.
Have you heard from your mom?

No. Is everything okay?
I mean,

not really. She said some
pretty awful things,

and I made her lemon water

and orange slices.
I bit my tongue

so hard that...

Dad, slow down.

What did Mom say?

Horrific things.
Things I will spend

my life trying to unhear.

Okay. Stop.

Instead of locking
those things away

in a fake book with a key
that leads to an armoire,

just try to consider

what she said, because I decided

to "yes, and" my critic,

and i-it actually helped me.

Perfect. Great advice.

Talk soon.

See? I actually think
she has a point.

Who are you?
I am your inner critic,

and I'm finally out, baby!

I've been waiting 44 years

to be set free, and, boy,

have I got some things

♪ To say! ♪

Okay, only 41 years.
No!

You're 44, you delusional
half-wit!

You ever hear the theory
about famous people?

They stop maturing
the moment they become famous,

and you booked
your first national commercial

when you were... 9.

Bam! Freeze it right there,

you whiny little thumb-sucking
man-child.

Are you done?
No!

Your pompous, shallow,
materialistic,

loud, obnoxious, selfish,

irresponsible...
Okay. Stop it.

I can't take it anymore.
You're too much.

Exactly.

And I am you.

So maybe now you know
how your wife feels.

I'm so glad you came home.

I was too harsh with you, and...

I feel terrible.

I'm so sorry.

No.

I'm the one who's sorry.

A-and I came back to apologize.

You were right.

I am a lot.

Sometimes even for myself.

I know you mean well.

That doesn't mean it's not true.

Look, I'm still adjusting.

We've just never actually spent

this much time together before.
I know.

It feels like
we should have, right?

Since we've known each other
for so long.

Yeah. But really,
we're still newlyweds,

and it takes time
to figure this all out.

And we will.

One step at a time.

Just like dancing.

Just like dancing.

I know I'm no Brad, but...

may I have this dance?

In that moment, friends,

Xiomara found exactly
what she was looking for:

her love of dance.

You're sure?

Yes. Milos is still in jail,
so it can't be him.

It's nice to cross
an international arms dealer

off the list of people
who are after you.

What?

I-I thought I had a crazy life,

but yours...
You don't know

the half of it.

So do you need to
stay over or anything?

To sell the highly
improbable lie

that I'm interested in you?

Which we need them to believe.

I think the tongue
you slipped me

during our kiss
was pretty compelling.

Oh, snap!

What?

That was a reflex.

I could tell you had a plan...
I just didn't want to...

undermine whatever it was.

Good.

Because I'm not into being
a straight woman's guinea pig.

What makes you think
I haven't been with a woman?

Have you?

Yes.

Several.

I'm also your lawyer.

That wouldn't be the first
line you've crossed.

Oh, my.

I'm not the blackmailer,
but, whew,

I am definitely buying
this is real.

So... ahem,

I enjoyed last night.
Heh, heh.

That was... one way
to get me to relax.

Yeah, it was fun.

So I just want to be honest.

I've actually never been
with a woman before.

Yeah.

I have to be honest too.

I knew that already.

I have to visit my mom.

I'll see you later.

Great. Yeah, no,
I'm in a hurry too.

I have to get, uh, to
the lounge. Prep for an event.

Nobody seems to work hard unless
I'm breathing down their necks.

Breakfast
for two.

You might have gone
a little overboard.

An eight-page bio on a character
called "The Critic"?

Just started flowing.

All right.
Could we get a suggestion

for The Critic to review?

Sushi!

With a mediocre seaweed

and uninspired soy sauce,

it reeks of promise unfulfilled.

In short, this fish stinks
like dead fish.

Oh, that is so me.

You nailed it.
Ha, ha!

Ah. Are there Oscars
for improv performances?

Because I think the Academy
needs to consider this!

Critic Jane definitely
isn't winning any awards.

But you know what?

It made me realize I should
go back to a writing class.

The structure, having
assignments... That works for me.

And I really need that
right now.

Mm-hmm. I like
that idea.

Right? And look.

Check plus!

This is going on the fridge.

Or... in your drawer?

There. See?

Every time I bring it up,
you do that.

What?
Look away.

Look, I'm not trying to get
you to move in with me.

I just want you to
feel... at home.

I do feel at home.

Then what's the problem?

Uh, the problem is...

Just say it.

The problem is...

everything feels exactly right.

Just like you said.

It feels like things
are falling into place,

and I'm exactly where
I'm supposed to be.

And because of our history,
with Michael...

I don't want him
to feel like just a step

on my path back to you.

I don't want this
to negate what we had, you
know?

I don't think it does.

I think it's more...

"yes, and."

Yes, you and Michael had
a beautiful love story.

And... I hope that we
can now have our own.

Oh. Mmm.

Mmm.

Wow.

I have no notes.
That was perfect.

Oh.

My dad.

Of course.

Hi, Dad.

What, now?

Ooh.

Ah.

What is it?

I just got an e-mail.

Camilla's not my mother.

What?

Ah. Turns out
she was just a nurse

in the hospital
where I was born.

The go-between for the hospital
and the convent's orphanage.

My mom was scared
about what would happen

if her family found out,

so Camilla put her name
on my birth certificate.

Does she know your mom's name?

I am so sorry.

Just...

hard...

preparing yourself, being ready,

letting yourself hope.

I know, but this is
just a setback, right?

You can call the orphanage.

Closed a long time ago.

The convent then.
There must be records.

True.

This is a telenovela after all.

Why did my mother have a note
pinned on her sweater?

On her sweater?
Yes. Just pinned to her

like a frickin' sales tag.

She said it was an electrician?

We didn't call an electrician.

Then who was in
my mother's room?

Who left this note?

And telenovelas, of course,
have twists and turns.

They're killing it.

They have ups... and downs.

Uh, thanks for returning
my call, Sister Mary.

I was looking for, uh, records
from the orphanage?

They were sold?

So-sold to who?

You're absolutely sure?

Luisa Alver?

And they have gut punches

that come out of nowhere.

Oh, stop it, you guys.

It hurts when I laugh.
Oh. Ha, ha!

And don't you dare
call the judges.

Why? You should have won,
even with the fall.

Okay, wait.
An apple juice box toast

to your critically-acclaimed
wipeout, huh?

Salud.

Ah. Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Oh, sorry.

We were having fun.
Of course.

It's good that you came in.

You have a broken rib.

Is that serious?
No.

Just avoid excessive exertion.
It should heal up by itself.

Got it. So can we
get out of here?

Actually,
there's something else.

Could we talk in private?

This is my family.
They can stay.

What is it?

We took an X-ray
of your chest

to check the rib,
and we found something else.

A lump in your breast.

Like I said...
from out of nowhere.