CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000–2015): Season 12, Episode 3 - Bittersweet - full transcript

Five grand?!

For this?!

It speaks to me.

Really.

Well, look at the face--
no expression.

'Cause it's a
frying pan.

Come over here.

Now are you getting hungry?

The Golden Nugget has a
really good steak house.

Come on, Nick,
just give it a try.

Tell me what you see.



Okay, uh,

a banged-up muffler.

Says to me:

Car accident.

No?

What then?

Mm... says to me...

two people breaking down
the walls

that they've built
around their hearts,

surrendering to their
innermost feelings.

That's real nice.

Thank you.

All right, okay, I can
do some curating here.

Oh, boy, this one's
yelling at me.



Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Yeah, the cement,
the brick, the metal...

It's very heavy.

We all carry a load
in this life

and if we can't
overcome our burdens,

we'll be crushed
like a beer can.

That was beautiful.

Thank you.

Oh, wow! It's interactive.

Whew.

You know what
it's telling me now?

What?

This date's over.

Hi.

Thank you.

Nice catch.

It's definitely human.

You think there's
a real arm in there?

At these prices,

I'm thinking an arm and a leg.

Hey, come here.

Which one is she?
Hmm?

Oh, come on.

Art gallery opening.
It's not your thing.

You're on a date, right?

What?

No, wait, wait--
let me guess.

The pretty brunette?

It's Doc Robbins' niece.

She's in from Ohio.
I'm just showing her around.

It's one date
she'll never forget.

Mm.

See, am I crazy?

What do you see?

Please don't start that.

Well...

I wouldn't be putting
my face in there.

Yeah, you know what?

You're right. You do it.

That's an order.

Nose, cheekbone, eye socket.

Half a face, right?

Yeah, looks like it.

Is there an artist
in the house here?

Yeah.

Come here.

I'm-I'm the artist.

Name?

Slade.

What's your last
name, Slade?

Just Slade.

Well, this is just Stokes

and I'm just Russell,
crime lab.

We love what
you're doing here.

The cement's fresh,
the hint of decomp.

It's nice.

Maybe you better tell us
about your process.

I'm an artist, man.

I find things.

They tell me
what they want to be.

Do these blocks
talk to you

before or after
the cement dries?

It's called "found art"
for a reason.

Like, that's how I found them.

Where'd you find it?

Tresser Park. Dump site.

Prime objetturf.

Objet?What the...?
I'll translate.

You know something, pal,
you're going to come with us.

And if we don't find

some objetin Tresser Park,

it's going to be
"Bonjour, bastille."

"Hello, prison."

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

Man, all this heat's
gonna ruin my spot.

Our market's cutthroat.

Hey, uh, how much for
a used cop car?

Maybe you got one
that's been all shot up?

Give it a rest, Picasso.

Is that evidence, too?

This? No, that's a
perfectly good hibachi.

You aren't really
thinking about

taking that home
with you, are you?

Hell, yes.
This'll clean up great.

There's enough junk
in the world already.

Why buy more?

Hey, would you tag that?

You need a TV, too?

No, for the serial number.

In case one of our
litter bugs is the killer.

Or saw the killer.

Got some cement
blocks over here.

Could be more
body parts.

Go ahead and tag
the microwave, too.

Oh, man.

I think we just found
our missing face.

Early instars
of the Black Soldier Fly.

Cheese Skippers.
Hide Beetles.

That face has been exposed
about three weeks.

Killed, cut up,

encased in cement.

Did you ever read
The Lady in Cement?

What do you think?

It's a great book.

So-so movie.

Frank Sinatra,
Raquel Welch.

It was a Mob hit.

They fitted the lady
with cement shoes,

and then threw
her in the ocean.

That's a good way to
dispose of the body.

What do you think?

Killer tosses the block,

it rolls down the hill...

...the block splits open,
exposes the head.

Wait a second.

What you got?

A flower earring--
I've seen that before.

Five girls were abducted,

sexually assaulted and murdered,

dismembered...
then encased in cement.

Was it a cold case?
No, no.
We solved it.

It was a husband and wife team.

They were convicted
a couple of years ago.

It was Sara's case.

Colleen, what do you think? Hm?

I wore this just for you.

You like it?

I know you've been waiting
for this all day.

Oh, you're such a pretty girl.

You pulled this
from my old case files.

Last sip is yours.

Hmm?

Say, "I want to
be a good girl."

I want to be a good girl.

Oh.

Good girl.

Go on, Gina.

Give the good girl a reward.

How did a woman like this

not get life?

Because the jury
never saw these.

Gina Sinclair's husband,
Todd, hid their sex tapes

in his grandmother's attic.

We found them after she
died, but it was, uh,

three weeks
after the verdict.

Colleen Hughes
was their only

surviving victim?

They, um, held her captive
for three years.

How did she walk
out of there?

What did she do
differently?

The psychiatrist said

that Colleen was
completely compliant.

She indulged their fantasies,
she never challenged them.

Most kids wouldn't be able
to get past the fear.

As soon as I heard from
Nick, I called the prison.

Gina got out
two months ago.

Early release with parole.

I'm not surprised.
She is a master manipulator.

She sold a sob story to the jury
that her husband controlled her,

that he forced her
to abuse the girls,

that he threatened her life.

Which explains why she got
five years, and he got 120.

He was not the one in control.

She was.

So, you think
that now that she's out...

She's picking up
right where she left off.

Flower earrings and cement.

I was on this case then.

I want on it now.

Well, I guess there's something
to be said for continuity.

Oh, if you're feeling
homesick for L.A.,

this should cure you.

Not this homesick.

Listen, I'm not saying I'm
one to date guys on the job,

but can I ask you
a personal question?

Yeah, sure.

I heard Nick was on a
date with Robbins' niece.

They an item?

Hey, guys.

Welcome to my third
trash run of the day.

In L.A., they at least
leave the underwear.

Blunt force trauma,
a little blood,

but no blood pool.

Slight lividity on his back.

But it's more prominent
in his lower extremities.

No blanching on the soles
of his feet.

It's weird.

Guy died standing up,
but not standing on anything.

Maybe he was suspended.

Hung.

No. No ligature marks.

Roll him?

Yeah.

A little help?

One, two, three.

Pretty well fed
for a junkie.

No jaundice.

No track marks.

Check his teeth.

Nice pearlies.

Didn't brush today,

but not on the pipe.

So we can forget
the trash run.

He was dumped.

Oh, this is good.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Based on the lack of
eruption of the wisdom teeth,

I'd estimate she's...
12 to 15 years old.

Same age as all
the Sinclair victims.

I sent her dental X-rays
to Missing Persons.

Hopefully it'll
give us an I.D.

Evidence of sexual assault?

I found significant
vaginal trauma,

possibly involving
a foreign object.

Gina used to, um,
use bare bottles.

I sent the SAE
kit to DNA.

C.O.D.?

Well, aside from the hack job,

no other signs
of obvious trauma.

Condition of the body makes it
hard to tell much of anything.

Sinclair's previous victims were

all dismembered
at the major joints.

Tool marks are almost identical
to our cement girl here.

We never did figure out what
they used to cut up the bodies.

Same M.O., same tool.

I don't think
we're looking at a copycat here.

We know who we're looking for.

Gina Sinclair.

Sara's not the only one
who knows she's out of prison.

Whose Web site is this?

Ed Burrows.

His daughter Jennifer

was the Sinclairs'
second victim.

This guy has quit his job,
sold his house,

pretty much devoted his life to
seeing the Sinclairs put away.

Somebody killed my daughter,
I'd do the same thing.

And if I found out
they got out of prison,

I'd have eyes on them, too.

There's a lot of people
that would like to see

Gina Sinclair pay
for what she did.

And by people, you mean Sara.

You know how it is.

You, uh, live with a case
for a couple of years,

you obviously get very close

to the victims
and their families,

and then justice
isn't served.

She said she wants
another shot.

Should I be worried?

I know why Ecklie
brought you in.

Clearly, as a supervisor,
I was too close to my team.

I allowed one of them

to walk into a house
with a serial killer.

Right. Wh-What
are you saying?

I'm saying that
you can't let Sara

walk through that same door.

You are the supervisor now.

You've gotta
protect the team.

Okay, I got that.

And I appreciate
the heads up.

Okay.

Mr. Burrows...

I'm more than 200 feet
away from her place.

You can check
for yourself.

I'm not here about
the restraining order.

I heard they found
another body.

Mr. Burrows, when was
the last time you were home?

My wife kicked me
out three weeks ago.

I'm sorry.

I, um, I've seen
your Web site.

You've been busy.

She's a killer.

There's no way I can stand
around and do nothing.

Ed, do me a favor.

Go home, make up
with your wife...

let us do
our job... okay?

Gordon! Stop running!

CSI Sidle, right?

Mm.

Care for a cold one?

You look good, Gina.

I guess prison
agreed with you.

And you're looking
a little pale.

Yeah, I spend
most of my time in a lab

busting psychopaths like you.

We, um... found a girl.

In cement.

That's got nothing
to do with me.

Good. Then you won't mind
if I search your apartment.

Well, it's kind of a mess.

Maid's day off.

You're on a parole.
I don't need a warrant.

I don't need to be
harassed by you.

Or by numbnuts out in the car.

Burrows has been stalking me
ever since I got out.

Well, you, um, raped, murdered
and dismembered his daughter.

Court said Todd did it.

I'm as much of a victim
as those other girls.

Am I blocking your view?

I'm just admiring the flowers.

Excuse me...

may I have
your attention?

I am with the Las Vegas
police department.

Your neighbor here,
Gina Sinclair,

Apartment 206, is a
rapist and a murderer.

And, if I were you,

I would keep an eye
on your children.

Get up.

I'm calling your
parole officer.

Let's see what kind of mess
your maid left.

Look, I already know why
you called me in here.

I paid a visit today to
a person of interest,

who, by any reasonable measure,
is our prime suspect,

and I executed a search.

Yeah, and in the process,
in front of 30 of her neighbors,

called her a rapist,
a murderer...

And a psychopath.

But that was to her face.

Well, you should know

that her attorney has threatened

to sue the department and you
for harassment,

which he has every right to do.

My son is on
the freshman team at WLVU.

The kid's been practicing
since he was six.

And you know something?

In junior high,
he used to practice at night,

and he wanted to walk home,
but I wouldn't let him.

One of us always picked him up.

Kids should be able
to walk home from school.

These girls should have
been able to walk home.

You know, I want
the Gina Sinclairs of the world

off the street
just as much as you do.

I was just taking
her temperature.

Yeah, rectally.

You showed your hand today
to a master manipulator.

Your words.

Her neighbors have
a right to know.

She did this, five years ago,
three weeks ago,

and she's gonna do it again.

Yeah, and maybe now,
she'll get away with it, again.

Look, you know this,
when we walk into court,

if the defense can't attack
the evidence, they attack us,

which is why we need to be
unbiased and impartial.

You-- no--

you blew it today.

In front of
30 potential jurors.

And I don't want
to lose this, Sara.

I want to win.

So do I.

Am I off the case?

Because, if I am, someone needs
to call Colleen Hughes

and tell her
that Gina's out of prison.

Maybe I should handle that.

Good call on the
dual livor mortis.

Thank you.

I didn't get this job
'cause of nepotism.

Never crossed my mind.

Am I late?

Nope.

I'm always early.

You don't see
this too often.

Lungs are distended.

They should feel like
deflated balloons.

These feel more like pillows,
but heavy.

May I?

Yeah.

Oh, that's awesome.

Let's see
how much they weigh.

Whoa!

That looks like, uh...

Chocolate.

Guy's a soufflé.

Lungs full
of chocolate,

lividity in
the lower extremities,

died vertical

but not on his feet,

and not hung.

Victim was floating.

Doc, is it possible for somebody
to drown in chocolate?

So, milk
or dark chocolate?

Really?
That's your first question?

No, but it's gonna be my wife's,

as soon as I tell her
this story.

Well, we sent
chocolate samples to Hodges.

Okay, so what's our guy weigh?

221, give or take
a little fudge.

How tall is he?
Five-eleven-ish.

So what do you think,

maybe a hundred plus gallons?

Well, at least.

I mean, he must have
drowned in a lot of chocolate.

Right, so--
Oh, you guys,

there's this great book
you'd love.

Uh, Road to Wellville
by T.C. Boyle.

There's a part where a man
kills his adopted son

by drowning him in a vat
of macadamia nut butter.

All right, well,
I guess we should...

Find the vat.

Yeah, that's probably
a good idea.

Thanks.

Okay... Ryan Thomas?

You know that dumping's illegal,

right, Mr. Thomas?

It's an $800 fine.

It was just a busted microwave.

I mean, it doesn't even...
microwave anymore.

Is that what you do
with all your old stuff?

You just dump it in the ravine
at Tresser Park?

I'm sorry, man.

It costs money
to dump at the dump.

You throw anything else
in that ravine?

No.

I mean, why are
you sweating me?

It's not like I dumped
a body or something.

Somebody did.

And your junk
was right on top.

When'd you dump the microwave?

I don't know, about...

three weeks ago.

Did you see anybody else
in the park that night?

There was a truck.

And it... peeled out.

Damn near hit me.

Did it look like...

that?

Maybe...

Yeah.

A chick was driving it.

She was hot.

Look, man, take my
prints, my... my DNA.

I-I-I got to get
back to work.

There you are.

But I just had a Coke.

Enjoy.

I can't believe
they let her out.

Where is she?

Under the conditions
of her parole,

she has to
stay in Vegas.

Of course she does.

So what, now she's free
and I have to hide?

No. No. No one says
you have to hide.

But maybe you
should move

back in with your parents,
just for a while.

No way.

Do you have any idea
what it's like

to live with parents
who thought that you were dead?

Do you have any friends
you can stay with?

I don't have any friends
because I don't trust anyone.

The shrinks
call it PTSD.

I say, once you've been
chained to a bed and raped

for 1,112 days...

it's better to be alone.

Okay. Um...

I-I'll try to arrange
for some police protection.

No.

Why don't you send the cops
to her place?

I can take care
of myself.

I'm done being a victim.

All right. Um...

this has the number to the
department on the front,

but that's my cell
phone on the back.

I want you
to call me.

Colleen, I want you to
call me anytime you want.

Samantha Chase, 13.

Our girl in cement.

Doc Robbins I.D.'d her
off of her dental records.

She was last seen
three weeks ago

leaving Desert
Palm Library.

Library is here.

Samantha Chase's
home is here.

And Gina Sinclair's condo
is right in the middle.

We know that...

both of her parents work.

Latchkey kid.

She walks home from
the library every day,

right past Gina's window.

Same age.

Even looks like
the previous victims.

Gina's a predator.

She probably waited
for the right moment,

and then she just
grabbed her.

Yeah, but you said
you searched Gina's place.

Yes, and I didn't
find anything,

but that doesn't mean she didn't
take her somewhere else.

Well, we need to find
that someplace else.

And until we do,

that's just a theory.

A theory.

Trace results
from Samantha Chase's

fingernail scrapings--
found dog hair.

Pomeranian.

Gina Sinclair has a Pomeranian.

This guy looks good
from every angle.

If he's selling,
I'm buying.

I'm not so sure it's
chocolate he's selling.

Some studies suggest women
prefer chocolate to sex.

I say,
why not have both?

Angie Salinger, CEO,

Sinful Pleasures.

I really like your ad campaign.

And we're
investigating a guy

who really liked
your chocolate.

You recognize this guy?

Uh, yes. He came into
the factory a few days ago,

looking for a job.

Do you remember his name?

No, but I can have HR
look him up.

Is he dead?

We believe
that your chocolate was...

Involved.

This guy died
from eating my chocolate?

More like inhaling it.

According to our
chemical analysis,

it was your Argentinean Virgin
Honey Bee chocolate.

We're going to need
to take a tour

of your chocolate factory.

Oh, wow.

Floral hints of honey,
combined with cocoa.

That's intense.

If I fall in, don't save me.

Copy that.

Hey, while you're up there,
notice if anyone else fell in?

I'm thinking pube recall.

Well, looks like we found
our primary.

If John Doe drowned in this vat,

then by definition,

he didn't climb out.
Oh, he had help.

Six-foot drop.

Explains the postmortem BFT
to the head.

Guy covered in chocolate--

that's gonna make a mess.

Somebody cleaned up.

Gave this place

and our John
Doe a bath.

Oh.

Piece of scalp.

Shut it down.

This place is
a crime scene.

You wanted to see me?

Did you process
these blocks?

Yes.

By yourself?

No, I worked with Nick.

Why, is there a problem or...?

These blocks are heavy.

Not surprising it's
a two-person job.

Gina had help.

Like before.

I don't think
she's a solo act.

She found another Todd--

somebody weak,
someone easily controlled.

Find the weak link,

nail Gina.

Is that your lunch?

Yeah.

I thought you guys said
you found pubes in the cocoa.

No, this is pre-pube.

Oh.

You should try this.

Dark chocolate infused
with pasilla chili,

cayenne pepper, and cinnamon.

Oh, no, I've already got
some chili, thanks.

So, did you get an I.D.
on your victim yet--

the, uh, truffle guy?

Mm. Yeah.

25, local.

Greg and I searched his place.

Mm... sorry. Sticky.

Guy was drowning
in chocolate.

Well, before he was
drowning in chocolate.

Could be why he was hitting up
Sinful Pleasures for a job.

You know what they say
about loving your work.

Yeah.
Hey.

I love my work, too.

So chocolate wasn't
Chad's only obsession.

Archie unlocked
Chad's laptop.

That's the hot bod
from the ad campaign.

Now, Chad has

over a thousand images of
"hot bod" on his photo file.

Check this out.

His eyes
are amber.

Victim's eyes are amber.

Well, in order

to get amber eyes,
you need two recessive genes,

one from Mom, one from Dad.

Typically found in less than
one percent of the population.

One in a hundred shot.

Try one in one.

Pull up his old DMV photo.

Wow, it's the same guy.

Just more of him.

That's really depressing.

Gained a hundred pounds,

lost his looks.

Lost more than that.

You lied to us when you said
you didn't know Chad Ellis.

I don't.

He came into the factory looking
for a job-- end of story.

Well, his photos

are all over your factory.

That's Tristan Duran.

Now, him, I know--

every inch.

Then you can
confirm the birthmark

on his left butt cheek-- one
in the shape of Rhode Island?

Absolutely.

Well, Chad Ellis has
a birthmark, too,

only now it's the size of Texas.

When did you guys stop seeing
each other?

It was a fling.

He moved on,
I moved on.

Heard he was walking
runways in Milan.

Well, apparently,

he didn't walk them too long.

Just like your ad,
he dipped into the chocolate.

Ate himself out of a career.

Broke, modeling days are over,

he came to you for a job;
any job.

I didn't know
it was Tristan, I swear.

I think you did.

After all, he drowned

in your chocolate,

which means he had to make it
past your security.

And somebody had

to fish him out of the
vat and clean him up

and dump him in an alley.

Okay.

We're done here.

We'll let the jury decide.

I didn't kill the guy.

Then who did?

He killed himself.

Tristan, Chad, whatever-- he...

he came into the factory
after hours,

told my security guy he used

to work there--
happiest days of his life--

paid him off, and told him that he needed some alone time.

He said he was moving on,
wanted to say good-bye.

Well, he sure did.

How come
you didn't call the cops?

Each of those vats
is worth $20,000.

I call you guys
and I'm out of business.

So you cleaned him up
and dumped him in an alley?

I didn't.

My security guy did for
an extra 50 bucks and his job.

It's not a crime;
he killed himself.

Suicide... by chocolate.

Dumping a body is
a Class-D felony.

And making false statements
to the police--

that's the whipped cream
on the sundae.

Or...

another year on the nickel.

I'm here because I'm worried
about Colleen.

I called the café, she
didn't show up for work,

so I-I went over to her house,

and that's when I found this.

What's going on?

Mrs. Hughes, I contacted
your daughter to let her know

that Gina Sinclair had been
released from prison.

:
Oh.

Is, is Colleen in
police protection?

Sara...

Supervisor Russell

offered Colleen protection,
but she declined.

I could feel it.

I knew something was wrong.

It's happening again.

She has her.

Burrows' car.

No Burrows.

Control, Charlie
Zero-One-Russell.

Requesting immediate backup

at Gina Sinclair's apartment.

You took the
best thing from me!

Stop...!

Look at me!

Look at me!
No!

I'm gonna kill you.
Ed?

Help me!

Don't you look
away from me!

Ed, drop the knife!

Ed, listen to me.

Listen to me.
Shoot him!

You did this.
You did this!

You're not gonna get your
daughter back this way.

You do this, she wins.

Come on, put it down.

She cut my little
Jenny into pieces.

Just shoot him.

Put the knife down,
or I'll shoot you.

We're all right.
We're gonna be all right here.

We're gonna be all right.
Ed?

Colleen Hughes
is missing, okay?

And Gina is the only person
who knows where she is.

We need to find
Colleen, okay?

We need you to put
the knife down.

Ed, Ed, please!

Please.

There you go, buddy.

Thank you.

Fire in the hole!

You okay, Sara?

I heard it got pretty
ugly over at Gina's.

Well, the good news is,
she's in the hospital.

Bad news is,
she's going to be okay.

And we still have no idea
where they're holding Colleen.

Ed Burrows is
facing kidnapping,

assault with a deadly weapon
and attempted murder charges.

Once again, Gina skates.

Well, maybe not this time.

Hodges found traces
of sodium metasilicate

and anionic surfactant

on cement girl's
body parts.

Soap?

Not just any soap.

Soap that's used
in industrial pressure washers,

which got me thinking.

We never found the tool
that was used

to cut up the Sinclairs'
victims, right?

Uh-uh.

So, I got one
of those power washers,

and used it on a pork shank.

And the traumatic injuries
were consistent.

Those things are no joke.

So, Gina used a pressure
washer to dismember the bodies?

But you know,
we never found

any trace of soap
in the original case.

'Cause I don't think
she used it.

I think that was Todd's job.

Todd knew to rinse off the soap.

Gina missed that step.

Or whoever
she's teamed up with now.

So Gina has access
to a pressure washer.

Yeah, I think so.

A big, fat, industrial one--
a $50,000 unit.

There's not a lot of those
floating around.

Yeah, come...

I love DNA.

I like Tox, too, but this new
DNA gig-- it's like...

Yeah, Henry, you tapped.

Yes, I did, and...

I think I hit a grand slam.
What do you got?

I examined the SAE kit
on Samantha Chase--

the Lady in Cement.

Mm.
Found semen

on the vaginal swab,
which I ran

on my first post-qualification
DNA batch.

All right, but why are you
handing me the results

of the entire 96 sample run?

Because I happened to notice

that two of the samples
were the same DNA.

A match.

Samantha Chase
and Number 26.

26. Ryan Thomas.

Ryan Thomas.

He's the guy who threw the
microwave down the ravine.

All I know is,
it was his semen.

He had relations
with the Lady in Cement.

Henry, home run, buddy.

Ryan Thomas partnered up
with Gina.

They tortured and
murdered Samantha Chase,

and now they've
got Colleen Hughes.

Oh, man, I had him.

Yeah, he was sitting
right across from me.

We still got him, Nick.

You swabbed his cheek,

and you took his info.

All right, Brass
checked out Thomas' place.

He wasn't there.

We have a broadcast
out on the van.

So where did Thomas work?

He was a day laborer.

Construction, odd jobs.

Stuff like that.

Last employment
was at a marina.

Hodges ran

the fibers that you pulled
from the cement blocks.

Said it was fiberglass.

The type used
in auto body repair,

as well as boats.

You know, in Seattle,

when we take a boat
out for the winter,

you know what we do?

Power wash it.

So what

marina employed Ryan Thomas?

There's a warehouse
around the back.

Looks abandoned.
Pop it.

No, don't cry.

You want to be
a good girl, don't you?

Come on, say it.
"I want to be a good girl."

Say it. Say, "I want
to be a good girl."

Last sip is yours.

No, don't cry.

Say, "I want
to be a good girl."

Say it.

I want to be
a good girl.

Police!
On the ground, now!

Help me!

Don't you move!
Don't you move!

Don't move. Don't move.
Secure that man.

No. no.

No! Stop it!
Don't touch me!

It's gonna be okay.
It's gonna be all right.

Colleen?

I just wanted
to give Gina another flower.

I'm a good girl.

I'm a good girl.

I'm not gonna
let anybody else hurt you.

It's all right.

It's over.

The doctor says, uh,

victims sometimes identify
with their abusers.

Colleen is who she is

because of what Gina
Sinclair did to her.

Colleen was at a... a critical
age when she was abducted.

She was still developing some
key aspects of her personality.

I thought it was a miracle...

a gift that she survived.

And now...

How do I protect her

from herself?

Hey.

Hey.

Have you eaten?

You know, I'm not
really in the mood.

Yeah, I'm hungry, too.

You like Chinese?

Sushi?

Italian?

Greek?

I will go on.

Oh, I-I know you will.

Do you like Indian?