He can see through the slats. Ainsley, unconscious, draped across the bed. Rachel looming over her. But it’s dusty inside the wall. He coughs. It gives them away.

Rachel pulls a gun on them. Malcolm keeps himself between the gun and Neal as he steps into the room, talking to Rachel about Miss Windsor, about her childhood. But Ainsley gets off the bed and Malcolm suddenly is looking past Rachel, past her shoulder at Ainsley, though ostensibly still talking to her. His tone has changed. He’s pleading.

“Don’t do this. Please. There has to be another way.”