d0bb6aeb-b888-4c24-a2e3-d5ee2a43f39f

Over-the-shoulder past the man's henley on the right, tight on the woman on the upper step. She is looking down at him. Camera begins a very slow push-in past his shoulder, tightening on her face across the clip. She is deciding whether to tell the truth. Her jaw works. Her eyes drop to her own hands around her knees, then come back to his face. She speaks — quiet, careful, each word costing her something. He responds from off-frame, his shoulder shifting. She reacts — her eyes widening slightly, then softening. The push-in brings us closer to her face as the emotion builds. THE WOMAN (looking down at him, quiet, careful): "There's a difference. Forgetting is — you had something and you lost it. This isn't that." Her arms tighten around her knees. A breath. THE WOMAN (continuing, harder to say): "It's more like... I've had so many lives that none of them feel like mine anymore." THE MAN (from off-frame, his shoulder shifting forward, gentle): "That one. Right now. Sitting here. That one's yours." She looks at him. The push-in has arrived at close-up. Her eyes are glassing. She doesn't speak. The strand of hair moves across her face. She doesn't brush it away. Hold. AUDIO: her voice fragile, each word placed carefully. His voice from off-frame, warmer, certain. Wind. Her breath catching after his line. The push-in is silent. No music. Diegetic only.