Linden: "They obstructed my movement."
Coroner: "They are the parents of every child that has ever gone missing. They are shades of grief, a million Mitch Larsens, and they are here for the only answer they do not want."
Linden: "It does not matter if it pleases them. It matters if it is true."
So they do dental records, they make note of all wound patterns and things. Trisha's body was cremated, but Sarah carries the autopsy report everywhere with her these days. The man of the morgue is not having it, but with that steely undeniable Sarahness, she makes him check it out: The wounds are the same, close enough to match. According to science, he says -- this part is weird, I don't get this part yet -- they were in the pond for three to five years, but all died within six months of each other. So I guess Ashley Kwon was the first/only one in this new set?
Oh, and this: "I got a few broken fingers, some missing entirely... Sawed 'em off. Same weapon used on the throat."
Alton: "[Still talking.]"
Seward: "I am still in a mood, so I will tell you about the time I poked Becker's cousin's eye out. He was very abusive toward me in the beginning and throughout my stay at Cedar Creek, but one day there was a riot. I terrified him, I broke his nose, and then I burst his eyeball. It was slippery! You know, it only takes six pounds of pressure to rip someone's ear off? Eyeballs, on the other hand, were built to last."
Becker: "That is a very interesting story. Do you know the statistics on how likely Adrian is to end up exactly where you are? Or being beaten by another iteration of me, somewhere else? We say prison is a disease. Maybe you should have slit his throat, too."
Seward: "Can you come just a little bit closer?"
He does, but right before Seward cuts him up with his razorblade, Becker is called away. Becker is a twit, but I was not hugely looking forward to that. For sure not as much as Ray was.
And always this feeling like, maybe some people are born bad and others are beaten into it, but at any given time that doesn't really matter: You're not talking to a story, you're talking to a person, at a given place in space and time. It's not enough to say that Ray Seward has been driven mad by guilt, or our fucked-up prison system, or whether or not he deserves to die for those things.
It's not enough to say, as though there is a line you could ever cross, that he is no longer a human being: That line doesn't exist. We just pretend it does so we can sleep at night.