The room is no longer dark; there’s a film playing on one of the walls and its lights glimmer over her pale face. It is on day and night, its characters the only company she has. The sound is muted, and the figures move on and off the screen, as though they’re walking through the walls of her small room, into the next one, and then back.

Although it is something to look at and she’s bored, the little girl lies on the bed with her face in her pillow and squeezes her eyes closed. If the woman wants her to watch the film, then she won’t.

But she can’t lie face down on the bed all day. Eventually she has to get up, to pee or to stretch her legs and that is when she sees the film flickering around her. She begins to wonder who they are, these people, what they’re saying, what they’re going to do next.