A clean and minimalist room with many bookshelves, a moon-shaped sconce on the wall, and a window overlooking a green yard.

White Fox, bare-faced, clothed in a clean dress, is seated on a green cushion. She combs her clean, long, white hair.

White Fox stares out at the green yard. Foxgloves outside her window. She hears muted chattering from an unknown source. She rises, attempts to open the frame, and finds it locked.

She is a prisoner of this beautiful place.

She COUGHS BLOOD into her palm and wipes it on a cloth calmly. She’s clearly ill, and it’s serious.

INT. GRAND OLD HOME / LIVING ROOM—NIGHT

Lavish furnishings; high, vaulted ceilings; priceless art.

CLIENT 2 is the lonely man who claimed White Fox by purchasing her at auction.

He sits in another room, observing photos of himself, his lost wife, and his children, from many years ago. His wife resembles White Fox without her makeup.

Client 2 enters White Fox’s bedroom. She is seated on the cushion, and she quickly conceals her bleeding mouth. He stands by the door, looking down at her.

CLIENT 2

I’m sorry to disturb. But I gave you a week to get settled, and you have yet to say a word to me.

White Fox looks away in silence and tightens her dress.

CLIENT 2

(frustrated)

You have no right to treat me so.

White Fox recrosses her legs and looks at him coldly.

WHITE FOX

You have trapped me inside this room.

CLIENT 2

That isn’t true. I told you: Should you want to go outside, you must only ask the moon and the stars. They’re waiting for you.

Client 2 points toward the window. As if that helps.

WHITE FOX

Crazy old man, speaking in cruel riddles. Is that all that remains of you now? What is it that you truly want from me?

CLIENT 2

I found you, and I saved you.

WHITE FOX

So it’s company you want?

Client 2 and White Fox stare at each other.

WHITE FOX

What’s wrong with you? You could have bought a book. Or a cat.

White Fox COUGHS into her hand and sees speckles of blood, unseen to Client 2.

WHITE FOX (CONT’D)

I’m sure I’m going to die soon, anyway. What a waste of your money.

Client 2, confused, hands her a handkerchief, which she refuses. He looks concerned.

CLIENT 2

I want to know what made you this way. I want to help you.

WHITE FOX

Why? Why won’t you just let me go?

CLIENT 2

Where would you go?

Client 2 rubs the skin on the bridge of his nose.

CLIENT 2 (CONT’D)

I am all that you have.

White Fox turns away and stares dead-eyed at the wall.

Client 2 watches her in silence with a growing sadness. Eventually he slides open the door.

WHITE FOX

Wait.

Client 2 stops. CLOSE IN on his elegant, sunspotted hand.

WHITE FOX