A dim lamp throws a warm circle on the coffee table. Outside, rain patters against the window. A TV plays muted static. OLIVIA (late 20s), fidgety, sits on the couch, knees pulled up. She stares at an empty corner of the room as if expecting something to move.
He sets down groceries. He notices the way Olivia watches the empty corner.
They unpack in silence. Marco takes out fresh basil; Olivia’s hands twitch when he reaches for a pepper. A CRASH from the kitchen—Marco looks, then laughs nervously.
INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE — DAY (ONE WEEK LATER) aniphobia script
MARCO Great. I’m a menace.
MARCO Do you hear that?
OLIVIA I thought I could—fix it—get better on my own. A dim lamp throws a warm circle on the coffee table
OLIVIA We were.
MARCO Hey little guy.
OLIVIA It’s not plumbing.
The steps grow louder. There’s a faint scratching at the baseboard near the corner. Olivia’s breath quickens. Her hands curl into fists.
INT. OLIVIA’S MIND — SURREAL — NIGHT
DR. NAVAS When did the panic start?
They breathe together. The lamp steadies; the room feels marginally brighter. The framed photo of Olivia with the golden retriever glints in the lamp light.
OLIVIA I’m... here.