Anon Page #2

I was going to ask you the same thing.

Mine's gone.

[growling, snarling]

-[growling, snarling continue]

-gunshots]

The moment I saw her...

now just a black hole.

Not just me.

Ten other people in the street that day

now have edits in their record.

The moments they looked at her...

random strangers.

She must have built an algorithm.

Automatically searches for her

and erases any trace it finds.

Blacks her out and leaves a gap.

None of the people in the street

significant enough in their life

to warrant a proper cover-up.

And anyone who is significant

has a nasty habit of dying.

Hard to erase their memories

without erasing them.

Handful of people smart enough

to do this.

Generally too smart

to go on a killing spree.

Unless the gifted mind is a sick one.

They do a surveillance search?

With what? We don't have a face anymore.

F***.

We don't have a name, a face...

no idea where she is.

Yeah.

We got exactly nothing.

Hungry?

I'm good.

[female voice] You have arrived.

Hey.

Hi, Sal.

-It's late.

-I know.

Tomorrow's his birthday.

You think I don't know that?

Ten.

Please stop. He's gone.

He would have been ten.

You got to stop doing this,

to yourself and to me.

Doing what?

I'm keeping his memory alive.

What's wrong with that?

The memory's not going anywhere.

By the looks of it, neither are you.

Sal.

Does he have to be on the call

every time we talk?

Conrad, I'm not going to keep her long,

it's just..

I know...

but you can't keep calling all hours.

She's not your wife anymore.

It's his f***ing birthday.

Kristen.

Are you drunk?

You're swaying.

Not f***ing drunk.

I'm tired. I've been working--

I haven't had a drink for days.

Show me the last ten minutes

of your record.

You know what?

I've got to go.

[romantic pop music plays]

[static crackles]

[song skips]

Help!

Please, kill me.

Don't hurt her, please.

Don't, please.

No!

Mind's Eye hijacked.

Both of them.

The thing is, sir, the perp's POV...

I can't identify it.

It's got no signature.

No sh*t.

First responder.

I was in the neighborhood, sir.

Where is everyone?

On their way.

Who else is here?

Housekeeper.

She was downstairs.

[meows]

-[gunshot]

-[woman pants]

[gunshot]

[woman gasps, exclaims]

She's back in her room.

She's a mess.

I spoke to her.

Ma'am, can you describe the visitor?

[in Spanish] Long, brown hair...

Twenty-five?

I only saw her for a second.

Just us and her in the house now?

[loud thud]

That's one hell of a rat.

[whispers]

There's four of us in the house.

One of us is being shy.

Jam your transmitter.

[gunshot]

[fixture bursts]

Ah, f***.

[train grinding on rails]

[electronic club music plays]

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