In interview room again, Jane is already settled in her seat after lunch.
Doctor: Nice to see you again, Jane. Do you mind if I call you Jane? I know that’s not your actual name.
Jane: How do you know?
Doctor: How do I know what? That that’s not your name?
Doctor: Well, I suppose I don’t. We don’t have any information you. No birth date, no birth certificate, no birth place, no finger prints. Nothing from you, hell, some of us aren’t 100% convinced you’re female.
Jane giggles. She finds him humorous
Doctor: But due to your preference of using female identities, and you never stay as a male figure long – well, until the purpose has served. I’m going to guess you are a female. Or at least identify as one internally.
Jane: Would you like to find out?
The Doctor smirks.
Doctor: Actually, I am glad you asked, I’d love to know you.
Jane: Well, I am here to please. What do you want to know?
Doctor: What’s your name?
Jane: My name Rebbecca Bilious. Two B’s
Doctor: Interesting name, middle names?
Jane: None, I guess the extra b was enough.
Doctor: Who named you? Your mother or father?
Jane: Neither. They died when I was very young, an infant -maybe one, one and a half. Well that’s what I was told.
Doctor: So who raised you?
Jane: My aunt. She was a lovely lady, treated me nice. So kind and caring.
Doctor: So, you had a good relationship with her then?
Jane: Oh yes, I loved her extremely. And she doted on me. Gave me everything. Not spoiled, I wasn’t a brat. I appreciated it all. I appreciated her.
Doctor: So what happened?
Jane: You mean, how did I end up like this if I had such a great parental figure?
Doctor: Yes, Rebbecca. How did you end up like this?
Jane: Rebbecca, no one has called me that since her.
Jane starts to get upset. She wells up.
Doctor: Take your time. There is no rush.
Jane: No I’m okay. (Deep breath) Someone killed her. They- They destroyed her.
Doctor: What happened to her?
Jane: She got caught in an armed robbery, and shot. Shot her right in the heart. She died instantly. And they were never caught. They didn’t care about her. They didn’t know her, didn’t know her name, and didn’t know if she had a family or nothing. They didn’t care. The police, the shooters, all of them. Nobody cared for her justice.
Doctor: Didn’t care about her?
Doctor: Didn’t care about her identity?
Jane continues to show distress and emotions
Doctor: So you don’t care about their identity? Your victims?
Jane: Yes. Why should I after what they did to her?
Doctor: But you do care about their identities, all your victims. Why else become them, be them? You don’t destroy them, you carry them on.
Jane has a fixed glare on him, a blank, emotionless stare.
Jane: I don’t care about them. I – really – don’t.
Doctor: I think that is the first honest thing you’ve said.
Jane: I don’t understand
She quickly turns back to showing emotion and distress
Doctor: You’ve been dishonest this whole time, except the last part. I believe that was true.
She quickly goes back to being stern and impassive
Jane: How do you know?
Doctor: Talking slowly and calmly, knowing what you are saying, remained eye contact, giving a great deal of detail. Non hesitant, you barely move. Your heart rate is normal, and you just look so darn happy to be here. These are all signs of people who tell truth.
Jane: So that means I’m lying? Doctor, I believe you have me confused now.
Doctor: Your downfall, sweetheart, is… you’re too rehearsed. Too perfect. That’s how we caught you before. And that’s how I know now.
Jane: Maybe it is the truth. Maybe you are just too suspicious.
Doctor: No, humans make mistakes. Humans get nervous, human’s trip over themselves under pressure. Humans are imperfect.
Jane’s face turns. She isn’t amused by him.
Jane: So I’m not human?
Doctor: That’s what we’re going to find out Dear.
The Doctor stands up, and leaves the room. Jane is sitting by herself, with a look of contempt on her face.
Jane: You can try.