Diane: (thinly veiled worry) Is my father dead?
Tom: He's gonna be all right.
Diane: (sighs) I'm glad I guess. (beat) Am I going to jail?
Tom: (shaking head, smiles slightly) No, I don't think you're going to go to jail. (pauses while she sighs in relief.) Look, my real name is Tom Hanson. I can't tell you how sorry I am.
Diane: I made you do it.
Tom: (shaking head emphatically) No, you didn't make anyone do anything. (shifts uncomfortably for a second.) Feel alright?
Diane: Just tired I guess…must be those pills.
Tom: (turning to leave as he speaks, excusing himself to let her rest.) I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I can go.
Diane: (automatically, half-panicked voice.) No. Stay. You kept coming back. Even though you wouldn't let me hire you; even then you kept coming back. (seems wondrous/confused while speaking.)
Tom: (shifting again) I was worried about you Diane. (tender honesty in voice.)
Diane: (swallowing) I know. (thinks of another worry) Are you going to go to jail?
Tom: (honestly, but kindly) Well, some of that could depend on you. (cut to Diane staring intently as he speaks.) Look, I know it's going to be very hard, but a lot of people are going to come here and want to talk to you about what happened. Some of them are going to be doctors, some of them are going to be police officers.
Diane: (interrupting emphatically.) I don't want to talk about what happened, I just want it to go away!
Tom: (softly, evenly) Nobody can make you talk about anything you don't want to talk about.
Diane: Good. Then it's fine.
They both are silent, each caught up in their own internal dialogue for a moment.
Diane: (frustrated, she "confesses") My father molested me. (her lower lip trembles and she fights to hold back tears, her breath beginning to hitch.)
Tom closes his eyes and looks down to the ground, gripping the side rail, only returning his gaze to her as she continues to speak. Her voice is softer, slightly steadier.
Diane: You really want me to talk about this?
Tom: (honestly, openly, patiently.) I think a lot of people could be helped from it.
Diane has her eyes squeezed shut against tears that release as soon as he utters the words. Her eyes open as she gazes painfully towards the far corner of the room by the door.
Diane: No one's going to like me. (she looks at him, a pain stricken expression on her face.) No one's ever going to like me again. (her emotions break free and she begins to sob as she utters the words, unable to maintain eye contact with him.) I'm disgusting. (she covers her mouth to muffle heart wrenching cries as she finally reveals her secrets and crumbles.)
Tom feels the last shreds of his reserve tearing away as she watches her, hears the agonizing words come from her lips. Bending, be tenderly kisses her forehead, his right hand coming to cup her face as he tries to soothe her. He pours out the his support and compassion that he's barely managed to keep hidden throughout the mission, since she had first approached him and since he had begun to first suspect, no –dread, the circumstances that had spurned the request.