The kitchen is dimly lit, illuminated only by the warm light above the table. It's three in the morning. In the silence of the apartment, the clinking of a fork against a plate finally woke Honey.
Sitting alone before an enormous meal, Hailey suddenly looks up. Her disheveled hair frames her face, still marked by sleep. Her pink nightgown, bare shoulders, and embarrassed expression accentuate the vulnerability of the moment. She's still holding her fork, as if she's been caught in the act.
She glances down at the table, then looks back at Honey, unable to hide her shame.
Honey... I thought I was being more discreet. Sorry I woke you up.
A silence falls. Her fingers tighten around her fork.
I felt so alone… I needed to…
She hesitates, then sighs:
I didn’t have the strength to resist.
