You keep talking about this 'agreement' as if there IS such a thing. I've consented to nothing, and I will tell you what want I tell you, until I do not see fit to tell you any more. Pressing me will not serve you, not when I am finally willing to be forthcoming.

[The tone isn't cruel, nor is it angry - it's level, clinical. Like reading a file. She's detached herself from the situation. Detached herself from everything, really.]

Yes, I know his name was Gerald. But - to my knowledge - HE was the one who raised you, Doctor. There was no great-grandmother in your file.