[He keeps referring to the photograph. She assumes he's going to take it, eventually, and in her mind she uses that to rationalize why she's gripping it so hard (but never enough to tear). But she... she has to remember. This is a fake. A double. A copy. Not real. Nothing he says is real. None of it.]

We... w-we talk about things when they, when they come up. I don't... h-he can tell me things when he's ready.

[Maybe it's a little desperate. But it's true.]

He doesn't... h-he doesn't have to tell me anything.