Marcus figures it out.

Marcus was sitting on the bed. He was dialing 911. She was scaring him.

"Sal, hon, listen to me. It's Thursday. Do you know where you are?"

Marcus was sitting on the bed.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Marcus was sitting on the bed.

"Do you know what day it is?

It's Thursday. "It's Thursday."

Marcus was starting to piece it together. His concern didn't abate - if anything, this made it worse. He decided to try something.

"Sally, can you tell me my name?"

She smiled. "You're Marcus."

"Good. And what's your name?"

It was good. "Sally."

"Sally, I think something's wrong."

She furrowed her brow. Marcus thinks something's wrong. Is that why he's calling 911? "Is that why I'm scaring you?"

Marcus was taken aback. So far she had just sat silently in a stupor, but now she was asking questions. "No, hon. You're not scaring me "

She sighed in relief. She wasn't scaring him any more. Still, he was calling 911. He thought something was wrong. "Then why are you calling 911?"

Marcus was startling quizzically at her.

Marcus looked like he'd had an idea. "I'm not calling 911, Sal. It's ok."

She immediately relaxed, all of the tension melting out of her body. It was ok. It was Thursday, Marcus thought something was wrong, but it's ok.

Marcus took a step back. He needed to think. She tracked his movement with her eyes, her expression blank.

Marcus was standing. She was sitting on the bed.

Marcus was standing. She was sitting on the bed.