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Oh heavens. And now they were supposed to explain what they'd do once they found Maxwell Lombardi, as if that wasn't obvious. At least Annaliese seemed to be catching that something strange was going on. She was trying to leave. Leave. Leave!

But Tyler was a problem. He was dense as a brick, it seemed, and more than likely to get himself killed. Americans. Always thinking everything's safe and easy.

She hadn't met anyone who fit her stereotype of an American in a long time. The bloody heuristic seemed to be breaking down, on psychotic island, no less.

Papa would probably be proud. Though I suppose it's a bit late for that.

Anyway, now it was time to try and prevent Tyler from becoming the victim of a horrible murder.

"I don't--you needn't come with us." Alice started, to Annaliese and Tyler, Tyler in particular. "The problem is, we've got his medications. Which we shouldn't have. He ought to have them. And now he's got some rubbish like paranoid delusions going on, and I think it would be best for the island if he went back on his medication again." You can say that one more time. "Sarah knows him right well, so I can't imagine he'd murder her right off the bat. But the more people come with us, the more uncertain it's probably going to get." Be a good lie, be a good lie. "So if you don't know where he is, we'd best be on our way."

She motioned to Sarah, more tensely than she wished to. I shouldn't keep you around people for long. Let's go.

She didn't like that kind of thought. But all of this was really rather scary.
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Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Just a Kid, Napping · The Residential Area