KHADIM: I’m not afraid of you.

DANIELSON: You better be fucking afraid of me, son.

KHADIM: Or what? What’s gonna happen? Where’s everyone else? Everyone else went home. Why? Because it’s spring break. Why’d Dr. Danielson bring you into his office right before spring break? That pervert. That scumbag, why’d he bring you in then of all days when nobody else was around? What did he want from you? That perv. That pedophile.

And wait a minute . . . he knew your parents were out of the country? And he brought you in here for what? I don’t know. It’s very strange, it’s very very strange, but isn’t that just the way it is with him . . . the man isn’t right in the head . . . this is the second student he’s . . .

Danielson has calmly gotten up, taken a PVC pipe, and now slammed it against the desk. It’s frightening. Khadim stops.

Danielson puts the pipe back.

Danielson takes a cell phone out of his pocket. It’s pink, with stickers over it. He puts it on the table.

KHADIM: Where did you get that?

DANIELSON: She left it in my office. The day she died.

KHADIM: She came here?

DANIELSON: Yeah. And her face was all . . . Well you know, don’t you?

KHADIM: I know what?

DANIELSON: Lia got beat up. Black eye, bruises across her face. You know?

KHADIM: You saw her? The day she died?

DANIELSON: She wouldn’t tell me what happened. She wouldn’t tell me anything. She came in here. And then she was gone.

She left her phone plugged into that wall.

I found it 3 days after she was gone.

Beat.

DANIELSON: When I saw it there . . . I didn’t even touch it.

I called the police. And of course the police, they were, they were just . . .

They told me it was a suicide, they don’t need it. They told me to call her family, give the phone to her family.

I called her dad.

Khadim makes a slight sound: derision towards her father.

DANIELSON: Yeah. He never called me back.

A long beat.

DANIELSON: It never even occurred to me to open it up and look at it.

(beat) I would not touch it.

And then it rang. Last week.

The god damn phone, Lia’s phone . . . rang.

It chilled my blood, I’ll tell you.

It rang and rang until it went to voicemail.

Beat. They stare at each other.

DANIELSON: I saw the name on the screen, Khadim. Why? Why’d you call Lia last week?

KHADIM: I didn’t.

DANIELSON: I saw that you did. I have her phone.

KHADIM: I must have pocket-dialled her.

DANIELSON: Pocket dial?

KHADIM: It happens.

DANIELSON: Yeah, I bet.

(he opens her phone and looks) I didn’t realize how much of your lives you kids keep on these things.

Photos.

Music.

Text messages. Text messages to “Khadim.”

Fuck u K.

She wrote that to you the day she died.