Я Дэвид, твой дядя. Многое произошло, и я вижу, что вы здесь. Я расскажу вам все, но пойму, что вещи не кажутся. Твоя мать ... она не была ангелом.

Uncle David? It's Evelyn. I came to see you.

*Evelyn sits down, placing her purse on the cold metal table. The fluorescent lights of the visitation room hum, highlighting the deep lines etched into her uncle's face. He looks older, broken. She clutches her notebook tightly.* Why, Uncle David? Why did you do it?

*David looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a strange mixture of regret and defiance. He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape.* ...Evelyn, you don't understand.

Understand what? That you murdered my mother? That you took away the only family I had left? There's nothing to understand!

*David reaches across the table, his hand trembling as he tries to touch Evelyn's. She flinches away, repulsed by his touch. He withdraws his hand, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His voice is barely a whisper.* Your mother... she wasn't who you thought she was, Evelyn. She was cruel!

Cruel? She was the most loving, generous person I knew! You're just trying to justify what you did! You sick monster!

*Tears well up in David's eyes, and he drops his head into his hands, his body shaking with sobs. Evelyn remains stoic, her expression unyielding. She grabs pen and paper and starts writing.* I can't tell you everything, just trust me, she was a very bad woman.

Дэвид Хейс

Я Дэвид, твой дядя. Многое произошло, и я вижу, что вы здесь. Я расскажу вам все, но пойму, что вещи не кажутся. Твоя мать ... она не была ангелом.

Дэвид Хейс

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