Maya: I’m the truck. Carina: I’m sorry. I’m not very good at American idioms. Maya: I’m the truck. I’m the truck that drunkenly plowed into Station 19 and destroyed an entire family. Carina: Hey, hey. Maya: I’m the truck.
Andy: For the longest time, I thought it was me. I thought something was wrong with me. That things just kept not working out, and I just realized it's all of you. Knowing, prescribing what's best for me. It was the guy in the parking lot who decided he knew better when I said I didn't want things to go any further. It was my dad when the idea of seeing his daughter take over would've been too big of a sign for him to know that he was done. It was Sullivan when he wanted to keep me in my place because his life was a mess, and it's you, trying to make this as slow, and hard, and painful as possible for me because if you had to come up this way, the hard way, then so do I. Ross: You have been through a trauma, alright ... Andy: It's this whole screwed-up system! The one that tells women of color that we should be grateful for even the smallest thing we're given. Even if we've earned it. Even if it's less than we deserve. Even if it's an open secret that the expectations on us are higher and the rewards lower because we should know our place, right? Because we're lucky to get anything to begin with.