So Rebecca goes back to her apartment to study the files. Uncle Ray shows up on her doorstep to complain about Hauser. "Your nutcase Fed boss has got people watching me," he says. "He must think you know where Tommy is," she says. "Do you?" He says he doesn't but she doesn't quite believe him. Nor does she believe him when he says he doesn't know why Tommy killed her partner.
Elsewhere, Sonny is just walking into a darkened room somewhere. He turns on a small lamp and aims it at something just out of frame. We flash back to 1960. It's night and the prisoners are just leaving the yard to return to their cells. What are they doing in the yard at night? Anyway, Hicks and some of his tough friends corner Sonny as he's trying to make his way up the stairs. "Are you stupid or crazy, Burnett?" Hicks asks. He says he sent one of his guys "on the outside" to get the money, but it wasn't where Sonny promised it would be. Sonny is genuinely confused because nobody else knew where the money was. Hicks whips out a shiv and sticks Sonny in the gut a few times. As he falls to the ground, he whimpers Helen's name. Back in the present, he chugs a gallon of milk and adjusts the lamp so that it shines on David Pierce's terrified face. Pierce offers him money. "Call my wife -- she'll give you anything you want!" Sonny leans in and laughs in Pierce's face with his milk-breath. Rude!
Back to 1960. Sonny comes to in the infirmary with Dr. Beauregard, Warden James and Tiller gathered at his bedside. "Who's Helen?" Tiller wants to know. Sonny, addled, doesn't answer at first. Dr. Beauregard informs him he was dead, or at least without a pulse for 30 seconds. Warden James grants him another 30 days in solitary before sending him back into the general population. He turns to go, but Tiller calls him back: "I think that's a mistake." James looks quite taken aback to be disagreed with so publicly. Tiller thinks Sonny needs to adapt, and he won't do that if he keeps getting reprieve after reprieve. Alas, Warden James doesn't believe in adaptation here. He thinks you either survive or you don't. "Natural selection is predetermined," he says. Then why bother with the reprieve at all? James says a man needs to know his place on the food chain. "You of all people should know that," he says to Tiller, who silently seethes. After the good warden has left, Tiller offers Sonny some advice. "You're either predator or prey. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner you can make a choice: Which do you wanna be?"