1.06
A warm, lived-in space. Sunlight spills through the window, catching dust in the air. Hannah sets the grocery bag down on the counter and begins unpacking. Then, behind her:
She freezes. Turns. JOSH stands in the doorway. Handsome, casually dressed, but tense. Hannah doesn't notice. She keeps unpacking.
Hey. I got us groceries.
Josh doesn't move. A long beat. Finally, Hannah stops. Looks at him.
Are you alright?
Silence. Then Josh speaks.
Who are you?
Hannah stops cold. She searches his face, waiting for the joke.
I'm sorry, what?
Who are you? What are you doing in my house?
Your house? Are we having this conversation again?
I'm serious.
You're seriously asking me who I am?
Yeah.
A chill runs through her.
You're not my girlfriend.
This isn't funny.
I'm not being funny. You need to leave.
What's going on?
Do you need help?
Do *I* need help?
A pulse of panic hits her.
We can talk about this, but I need you to-
Please leave.
How do you know my name?
Of course I know your na-
Hannah stumbles back, her breath unsteady, hands trembling. Josh takes a step forward. She flinches. Turns. Bolts for the door.