Emily: “So I saw Serge tonight.”
Tristan: “Yeah?”
Emily: “Apparently he’s working on a new project with the paper. It just so happens that this new project is in need of a photographer, so he’s offered to take my portfolio and put in a good word for me.”
Tristan: “That’s fantastic!”
Emily: “I know! It’s for a weekly entertainment dealie, so it seems like it would be perfect for me. I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I really think I have a shot at this. Field work is different from studio work, but I’m comfortable in both environments really. Plus I would so love to not have to work as a cashier at a corner grocery store anymore.”

Tristan: “You know you don’t have to, right?”
Emily: “I really do, though. We talked about this.”
Tristan: “I know. I was sort of hoping that a few weeks of soul-draining mindless labour would change your mind.”
Emily: “Don’t think it’s not tempting.”
Tristan: “Well I’m fairly certain that in a very short while you won’t have to deal with depressing little old ladies anymore. At least not as their cashier anyway.”

Tristan: “I bought another bottle of that wine we had the other day. I thought we could have it when we get back.”
Emily: “The one that tasted like grapefruits with the trees on the bottle?”
Tristan: “That’s the one.”
Emily: “Did you have anything else planned for tonight?”
Tristan: “Just hiding from the world with you.”

Emily: “It shouldn’t take me longer than a half hour to get ready.”

Emily had just started to turn to go up the stairs when she heard Tristan stop dead and inhale sharply. She turned back to see him staring in shock and confusion toward the living room, the color drained completely from his face.

Emily: “Tristan? Is something wrong?”
Tristan: “Who…”
Lilian: “Tristan? Why aren’t you in bed?”

Tristan: “Mother?”