S.H.: You’re wrong, you know. You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you. But you were right. I’m not okay.
M.: Tell me, what’s wrong?
S.H.: Molly, I think I’m going to die.
M.: What do you need?
S.H.: If I wasn’t everything that you think I am - everything that I think I am - would you still want to help me?
M.: What do you need?
S.H.: You.
