[Malcolm watches him, rapt. He's felt like there was a darkness in this... a manipulation and simultaneous demand for him to feel particular things that didn't sit right with him. They felt... Martinesque.

But he always questions whether it's him. His issues. His damage.]

...You think... I didn't do it wrong? It's just... something he's doing? [He lowers his voice.] It felt like what my father does but I thought... I mean... sometimes I imagine it.