Sometimes, she says, I think that what Hans calls truth doesn’t even exist anymore.

Or it’s just not in the place where he’s looking, says Rosa.

Maybe, says Katharina.

I’m wondering, says Katharina, if I even know what I want. If I want anything anymore. If I exist. Isn’t that how you tell a person, by what they want?

Do you want to kiss me?

Yes.

There, you see, says Rosa, and pulls Katharina close.

Why don’t you leave him, she asks.

I love him.

Still?

Yes.