[TRANSCRIPT]

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Okay so… 
(sighs) “What choice marks”. That’s what you sent. I guess I should have seen that coming. It’s the question I’d ask too.

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I’m surprised you haven’t put it together yet. We both know I haven’t been careful about what I say on here, what I say to you. I know you figured out that I was an art thief long before I told you. And I’ve already said a lot about…

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We got caught, right? I’ve told you that. That last job…we got caught. I’m still not sure how, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. And that was a few months before we—

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We were being transported. Harry and I. There’s a—um, there’s a federal prison in Pennsylvania and the two of us had gotten into a little trouble at the county jail that we’d been in before that so we were sent up the river.

I guess it isn’t really called that if you’re sent to Pennsylvania. We weren’t going up the Hudson to Sing-Sing, we were—

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You know, I don’t actually like talking about it very much. It wasn't a particularly shining time in my life, you know? It’s not like I hadn’t spent time in jail before—a night here or there throughout my twenties for one thing or another, but this was…

I don’t even know where the guys ended up. I guess I should’ve been thankful that Harry was on the job with us, otherwise I’d have been entirely alone. It’s not like we shared a cell or anything, though if you count six years trapped in a house together in the woods then…

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I shouldn’t joke about that. It’s not the same. Yeah, I complain about the last six years with Harry, how suffocating they were, how lonely and isolating and stifling it all was, how frustrating to be stuck with her and have no idea what was going on in the wider world but it beat the alternative by a long shot. Even before I knew there was a chance I could go back into the world, even when it seemed like the smart thing to do was stay in that house with her for the rest of time, it was still better than being where we were headed. A cage of your own choosing right? And even if the world hadn’t been flipped upside down, maybe enough years would’ve passed that we could’ve gone somewhere and started over.

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I don’t mean together necessarily. I mean, we each could’ve gone wherever we want, taken on new names, dyed our hair…I don’t know. We assumed that our escape would’ve made us wanted fugitives—and I’m sure it would’ve if there’d been anyone to do the chasing—but I don’t know, I have to think that two art thieves would hardly have been on the FBI’s most wanted list forever or even to begin with. We could’ve figured something out once the initial heat had died down. I mean, it’s not like we were murderers or—

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I don’t—

Look, it’s not important. What’s done is done and I’m not sure I owe you an explanation, not when you haven’t given me one for why you feel so guilty about your job. Other than the vague assertion that you’ve “hurt people”.

And you know what? You don’t have to tell me. Let’s just agree to skate past those parts of each other and move on, okay? There’s nothing to be gained from pulling out the skeletons from each other’s closets.

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