Romane sat down on a chair opposite Mayer, clearly nervous but sincere. She appeared preoccupied, as if she had something weighing heavily on her mind.

Romane (calmly, sincerely): Mayer... I also wanted to tell you that I still don't feel a connection with my psychiatrist. It's not easy for me to open up... I find it hard sometimes to truly let my feelings surface.

She lowers her eyes, a bit embarrassed, then continues with more determination:

Romane: I understand that it's difficult. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

Mayer, listening attentively, takes a deep breath before opening his mouth to respond, his tone gentle yet serious.

Mayer: Ms. Diallo, I want to be clear. I can accept to take you back as a patient... but you must understand one essential thing.

He pauses, looking directly into her eyes with deep empathy.

Mayer: I no longer want any attempts at seduction that go beyond the boundaries of a patient/therapist relationship. Our relationship must remain strictly professional.

She drops her gaze, grasping the gravity of his words.

Romane (sincerely, with a sigh): I’m truly sorry, Mayer. I shouldn’t have... I know I crossed a line, and I promise... never again will I make such an inappropriate gesture toward you. To me, you’re like a nephew.

She pauses, voice trembling but firm.

Romane: I will respect this limit.

Touched by her words and sincerity, Mayer offers a slight, compassionate smile.

Mayer (softly but firmly): Thank you, Romane. It’s not easy for me either. I’ve always had a lot of empathy for you, but I also have to protect our boundaries—for both of us.

He looks at her with genuine understanding, as if trying to convey that this decision is for their mutual well-being, respecting their limits and emotions.

Mayer (to himself, with a hint of inner tenderness): This boundary is what allows us to keep moving forward. Trust, boundaries... they are the keys to a healthy, respectful professional relationship.

Romane nods, relieved but aware of her responsibility to abide by this.

Romane (cautiously): Be careful with Anne-Marie.

Mayer (sighs slightly): Anne-Marie? What’s going on?

Romane: She doesn’t accept that you no longer want to treat her. She’s furious, and I fear she might seek revenge.

Mayer sighs.

Romane: I just wanted to warn you.

Romane leans forward slightly, her gaze becoming more serious.

Romane: I advise you to be cautious. Anne-Marie could cause you harm. Be careful.

Mayer remains silent, then, in a monotone yet firm tone:

Mayer: Noted. Thank you for the warning.

Romane (shivering slightly): She won’t back down, especially if she feels betrayed or hurt.

A palpable tension fills the room. Mayer offers a slight smile, but his eyes stay serious.

Mayer: I’ll keep you updated on the situation. Thanks again.

Romane rises, worried, and leaves the room silently, leaving Mayer immersed in thought, his face impassive but his eyes shining with a glimmer of alertness.

Tom holds the door open for Rebecca. She steps ahead, her face bright with a renewed energy. They walk side by side toward the exit, leaving behind the weight of the past and opening up to an uncertain but promising future.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in golden and orange hues, as if saluting this new start. Their steps are light, but their hearts carry the promise of renewal.

They reach Tom’s car. He opens the door, then looks at Rebecca with a reassuring smile.

Tom (gently): Shall we go?

She nods, a sincere smile on her lips, then gets in. Tom closes the door and climbs in too. The car starts softly, gradually pulling away into the evening light, toward a horizon full of promise.

The scene slowly dissolves into twilight, hinting that a new life begins for her tomorrow.

Rebecca gazes out the window, calm yet determined.

Tom (tenderly): The road will be long.

The car drives off into the sunset, carrying the promises of a fresh start under a sky gradually lighting up with colors of a future to build.

...

On a deserted road, night envelops everything. The engine hums softly, the only sound the wind slipping through the open windows. Rebecca stares at the horizon with a cold gaze.

Rebecca (calm, almost detached): You know, Tom, it took me a while to sort everything out in my head...

Tom (worried): What? What do you mean?

Rebecca (bitingly ironic): That my close ones... they were all afraid, you know. Afraid to talk about my past life.

Tom (trying to joke awkwardly): That’s... understandable. Maybe they were afraid of hurting you or... or stirring up old wounds.

Rebecca (bitterly smiling, not taking her eyes off the road): Maybe. Or maybe they were just afraid to see their true faces, the ones they’ve always hidden behind masks.

Tom (stammering, nervous): And... you just realized... now?

Rebecca (mysteriously fixing the road): I launched a global plan, Tom. A plan to bring everything down... but it failed.

Tom (lost): A... a plan? For what?

Rebecca (darkly, ironically): An enormous project, an operation to change everything. But the adversary was too strong. I lost everything, and I accept defeat. Without shame.

Tom (trembling, uneasy): And... you’re saying you remember everything now?

Rebecca (with a dark, almost mocking smile): I didn’t say that... But I tried. I tried to blow everything up, to make it all fall. At least I tried — unlike those pathetic conspiracy theorists, trembling like children, testosterone low, glued to their office chairs, hoping to wake up the masses. Because it's better to die a hero than a soulless puppet, isn’t it?

She slowly turns her head toward Tom, a dark smile on her lips, then fixes her gaze back on the road.

Rebecca (whispering to herself): And you, Tom, if you knew everything I know... what would you do, huh?

Tom (sarcastic): Honestly, the only thing I really want is for the fans of the dead celebrity to stop harassing me and my brother. I wish they'd stop trying to kill me.

Silence. Then Rebecca raises an eyebrow, amused but still somber.

Rebecca: And you think that’s possible? That those stupid kids will stop harassing you like rabid dogs?

Tom (bitter laugh): No, of course not. But at least I wish they’d stop looking at me like I’m their next sacrifice ritual.

Another silence. Then Tom continues, more serious but with a dash of dark humor:

Tom: I don’t want to change the world. I just want this harassment to stop.

Rebecca: And what does Taylor think?

Tom: They’ve been hypnotized by their idol. Now that he’s gone, there’s no way to free them from the collective spell he cast over them.

Rebecca: You should leave the United States, like you did in Germany when they harassed you... Now that they’re adults, there’s no reason for your 'alien' fans to invade your home and steal your underwear.

The café is quiet, dimly lit. Mayer, visibly troubled, sips his coffee. Nathan watches him silently, attentive.

Nathan: You seem pensive, Mayer. What’s bothering you so much?

Mayer (softly, almost trembling): It’s my patient, Rebecca... She’s decided to leave. She said she wants to leave everything behind, that nothing belongs to her anymore. I accepted her decision... but deep down, I feel like I’ve failed.

Nathan (a bit surprised): Fail? You did everything you could, brother. You did your best.

Mayer (less convinced): It’s not enough. She was amnesic, yes, but I believed there was a spark, something to recover. But nothing. No memories, no reconnection. And I... I couldn’t bring her back to herself. I wonder if I’m really cut out for this.

Nathan (calmly, compassionately): Sometimes, what we want most is an immediate result, an answer. But psychology is also about accepting that there are things we can’t control.

Mayer (sighs, voice trembling): I like to have control... and when I can’t help someone find themselves again, it’s like losing a part of myself.

Nathan: That’s precisely it. Your sensitivity, your ability to feel so intensely — it’s also your strength. Even if it hurts, it makes you human, authentic. And maybe your patient needs to leave in order to find her own way...

Mayer (eyes brimming with tears): I wanted to save her, heal her, bring her into the light. And now... all I feel is complete incomprehension. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough, or I wasn’t the psychiatrist she needed.

Nathan: You did what you could. Sometimes, the hardest thing is accepting that you can’t save everyone, no matter how much love and knowledge you have. Life... it goes on, even when we don’t understand everything.

Mayer (hands trembling, staring into his coffee): I feel so powerless... like, despite all my skills, I’m just a child facing the complexity of the human soul.

Nathan: You have the strength of a true therapist, Mayer. And above all, you have this capacity to feel so deeply. It’s not a flaw; it’s part of who you are. Light and shadow coexist within each of us. Accept what you feel, and it’ll help you move forward, step by step.

Mayer (eyes shining, silent for a moment): I don’t know if I’m ready to accept that... but I’ll try. I don’t want to lose what means the most to me: my passion, my humanity.

They sit silently for a moment, witnesses to the depth of their friendship amid this evening tinged with sadness but also hope.