In the motel, Lou watches the video of the night Carolyn died. There's blood all over the wall, a trail of it on the carpet leading to the bathroom, and her corpse sits in bloody water. There's palm prints near the sink, smears on the walls and mirrors, and vomit in the toilet. Grimly, Lou flicks his switchblade and seizes this chance for a cheesy reenactment. He decides Carolyn was killed near the door, makes a slicing motion through the air with his knife -- such a necessary prop; perhaps he should've obtained a body, too -- and backs into the bathroom. Then he stands and stares at the tub, getting mental flashes of what it looked like That Fatal Night. He sees the prints everywhere. He deduces that the killer, hands coated in crimson fluid, dumped Carolyn in the tub and then rushed to the sink, studying his or her reflection in the mirror -- thus accounting for the palm prints. As Lou stares at himself, blood appears on the walls. He is in the moment. We're through the looking glass, here, people. "What are you thinking?" Lou barks, ostensibly at the killer but also at CBS. Then he recalls the prints on the toilet seat, and grimly tries to crack that mystery.

Phones ring madly at Donner's office. Everyone is searching for Sophia, and Donner screeches that he wants an army of people out there combing the woods. Nice to have abusable connections. Vivian slinks inside and drools, "Matt." He considers her, then escorts her into a cell -- the cell, actually -- so they can chat in private, because no one is in jail today. "You said you wanted an army," she whispers. "Well, there is an army, Matt. I know how you feel, but this is Sophia we're talking about. You're our blood, no matter what you say, and so is she!" Donner, stricken, chokes, "No! Not her." He chides himself for not sending her away as a baby. "No, what you should have done," Vivian pants, "was have your children with me." Donner's eyes flicker yellow, wolf lust and longing pumping through his veins -- one specific vein. Vivian wetly sidles up to him and heaves, "Let us help, Matt. We want to help." He exits the cell without addressing her, leaving her eyelashes alone to wilt.

Molly calls Donner to line three, at the other end of which is Nancy. He tries to hang up on her, but she tearfully explains that she's having an experience. "The silver daggers of light are back in my eyes, and I want to run," she purrs. Halfheartedly, Donner reminds her that she can fight the urge. "Urge...URGE," she weeps, washing her hair. He tries to pawn her off on Sheet-Cake Warren, but she understandably hates that idea. "I don't want to do this again!" she whimpers. Donner tells her to breathe and be strong. "I understand," Nancy snorts. "I'm on my own." She hangs up and writes "SOPHIA" on a Tupperware container that's just big enough to hold a heart. That sounds like a country song.