Now we're in Allston, Massachusetts, where Peter and Olivia are in Christine's apartment, talking to an arty blonde friend of hers. Apparently she's supposed to be subletting while Christine is on the trip to Italy she was supposed to leave for today. Which is why she was wandering aimlessly around earlier today rather than completing last-minute preparations for her transatlantic flight. Olivia asks the friend for a copy of Christine's itinerary. Meanwhile Peter, who's been closely snooping among the photos on the mantel, finds one of a little girl with her parents in San Francisco. The friend confirms that it's the last photo taken of Christine with her family before her parents were killed in a bridge collapse during the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. While she heads to the other room, Peter shows Olivia the photo. Far in the background, blurry but unmistakable, is an Observer. At this point, their ability to show up at significant and potentially significant events is dwarfed by their ability to somehow always end up in the shot.
Meanwhile, Christine has finally succeeded in breaking off a piece of the footboard she's tied to. All she manages to do as a result, though, is topple over in her chair so she can be helpless on the floor when August returns with a bag of Chinese takeout. "I thought you might be hungry," is all he says before righting the chair and plunking her back in it, then removing the gag. He looks at where the rope has rubbed her arm red and says, "You've hurt yourself." No, I think the person who put the rope there hurt her. She asks why he's doing this, solo this time. "It would be easier to show you," he says, and goes to turn on the TV news. Which, unlike most news shows on TV, is not currently showing exactly what's relevant to the plot. "It will be just a minute now," August tells her. She looks at him curiously. Well, if nothing else, at least she knows she's not on a stupid TV show.
Olivia and Peter are riding back from Christine's place in a Ford commercial, apparently. Olivia shows off the car's ability to let her make a call with voice commands and buttons on the steering wheel, the excuse being that she's calling to check on Ella, who is out with one of the babysitting Jacobsons anyway. She hangs up, and Peter asks if Rachel is out of town. Or, you know, scored an indie movie role or something. Olivia says she's gone for the weekend. "And?" Peter presses, having noticed Olivia giving an unhappy little side-pucker. "You do that thing with your mouth when you're upset," he says. And not much else, generally. She explains about the plans with Ella that she had to cancel, and how understanding her niece was about it. The she reminisces about her first movie with her mom at age six, so excited by the experience and the atmosphere that she said, "Mommy, this is the best movie ever!" before it even started. And given the dire state of kids' movies in the eighties, it was probably downhill from there anyway. She says it's one of her favorite memories of her mom, and Peter assures her she'll make lots of memories with Ella. In fact, she's indirectly making one now: she'll always remember that she was talking about her when she heard on the radio about the crash of Tropos Air flight 821 outside Rome. Which is my way of saying that the news has just broken. Olivia turns up the volume on the radio (again using a button on the steering wheel, standard on all '09 Ford Commercial models) and makes Peter dig Christine's itinerary out of the glove compartment. "She was supposed to be on that flight," Peter realizes. Thanks for catching up.
Live video of the plane's tail fin sticking out of the Atlantic is playing on the motel room TV. "You were going to die," August tells Christine, turning off the tube. "I saved you." But she's not safe yet, he says. "I have to go out. I would prefer not to gag you," he says, and then gags her anyway. "But it is for your own protection." She lets him do it and watches him go. Broyles is right -- there really isn't anything unusual about her, aside from how boring and passive she is.