Oh, good a change of scenes to cheer me up! Oh, no, it's just Thredson walking Kit through his own personal scenario of how the murders went. So according to Thredson's theory, Kit was so effed up by the societal pressures of being married to Alma that his psyche needed a release, so he started killing women, beginning with a librarian who worked a "short drive" from Kit's gas station. He says "short drive" like it's damning, but, like, LOTS of places are a short drive from where you work. Anyway, he shows Kit the photos of the victims, skinned and beheaded. "Why the skin, Kit? Why the head?" Kit's all, "Fuck if I know," but Thredson tries to make him admit that it was because skin and identity were the things that were fucking him up about Alma. Thredson seems like a terrible psychologist, I'm sorry. This feels way more like the tactics of forced confession than actually striving for truth. Anyway. Thredson's theory for Alma's murder is that it was Kit's friends at the door that night and Kit tried to keep Alma quiet so they'd go away, but maybe Alma didn't want to hide anymore, and Kit flew into a rage to make her shut up and he killed her. "You killed the thing you loved the most," Thredson says, underlining the point most unnecessarily. Kit just looks wide-eyed and says, less convinced than ever, "It wasn't me." YOU ARE A TERRIBLE SHRINK, OLLIE THREDSON.
Sister Jude tells Anne that it wasn't Dr. Arden in Auschwitz. She says she knows what she saw. "You didn't see anything," Jude says, "because you weren't there." Rookie mistake, Sister Jude. Now all Anne has to do is show you her arm tattoo and it is checkmate.
Lana's in the common room, just hanging out and having a daytime fantasy about accepting an award for her "searing 6-part exposé" on Briarcliff. She imagines herself at a podium, beautiful and put together, giving a speech wherein she thanks the crazies at Briarcliff for helping her realize her story: Martha, banging her head against the wall all day; Rudy, the chronic masturbator. She talks about how the institution tried to beat her down and take her memories, as she flashes back to her ACT and reciting Robert Frost's "Mending Wall" to herself in her cell. "I did what I had to do to get out," Imaginary Award-Winning Lana says. This is something of an epiphany for Lana. She heads directly to Dr. Thredson's office and says she wants to begin therapy immediately.
In the kitchen, the setting sunlight though the windows is making everything looks soft and dreamy. Even as Kit is beating the shit out of some bread dough, as his session with Thredson has made him quite upset. Grace enters -- they're the only two in the kitchen now -- and he expresses to her his fears that Thredson is right, that he committed the murders and convinced himself he didn't. Grace tells him that this kind of introspection is good -- "self-doubt is a sure sign of sanity." This kind of double-negative reasoning is confusing to Kit; "If I'm crazy then I wouldn't believe Dr. Thredson, but if I'm sane, then my crazy stories would be true?" Grace is like, "I have no idea what you just said." This brings a smile to both their faces, and between those gorgeous mugs and the sunlight and Kit's desperation to feel like a normal, sane person, the room suddenly has a very charged atmosphere. He grabs her by the throat, out of nowhere and asks, "Am I a killer?" Grace just say she doesn't care -- whether he is or isn't, she'll be with him. Well, now it's Go Time, and they both start kissing and since they're all alone in the middle of the worst place on Earth, they decide to get while the getting's good and start doing it right on the counter. That's where the scones are made, you guys! A little courtesy? It's quick, economical sex, but it's pretty passionate given what they're working with. Kit manages to finish before they get busted by the guards, at least.