Arriving at the Office for Briefing

Nervously adjusting the collar of his jacket, Jerome finally broke the silence:

"Harvey," his voice was tense but quiet. "You're from Samara, right?"

Harvey didn't answer right away. He glanced sideways, and his mouth curved up into a tiny smile, as if he'd been expecting the question. He wasn't surprised, he wasn't scared, he just sped up the car a little.

"Yes, from Samara," he finally said, answering the question as if it wasn't worth dwelling on.

Jerome felt his heart skip a beat again. The short, simple answer seemed to bring him back to reality, but still those uneasy thoughts did not subside in his head. "Samara." He could not shake the feeling that this name was connected with something sinister. He still remembered the film - how the girl crawled out of the TV, killing her victims, crawling across the screen with terrible speed, wrapping herself around people like an ominous shadow. For some reason, Jerome always felt that the name Samara was not just a coincidence, not just a geographical fact. It was something more, something that remained hidden, but was still there, next to him.

He leaned forward and looked at Harvey.

"Have you ever thought that the name of this city... evokes associations?" he asked, trying to control his voice, but still feeling the tension growing. "With a movie... about a girl who kills people?"

Harvey didn't turn his head, but Jerome felt his lips curl slightly into a smirk. There was something sophisticated in that look that Jerome didn't want to understand. Harvey seemed quite aware that his name and background evoked some kind of... association in other people. And though he didn't say a word, his silent attitude about it was exactly the same as that of those who knew that if you didn't ask the question, you wouldn't get an answer.

"Do you really think that just because my hometown has a name that automatically makes me cursed?" Harvey finally said, his voice even and slightly mocking, as if he hadn't noticed the tension building between them.

Jerome couldn't help but add a sharp note to his voice.

"You know how it sounds. Samara... It's not just a city. It's connected to something. The film, this girl... You couldn't help but see how she personifies all that's darkest. And your city... it's not a coincidence."

Harvey sped up the car a little, but didn't answer right away. He laughed softly, but there was no joy in it, just a subtle superiority. It irritated Jerome, as if Harvey knew more than he did, as if he could manipulate the situation without Jerome knowing.

"You know what I think?" Harvey said after a few seconds of silence. "I think you need to learn to let go of these things. It's easy to talk about curses, but life is a lot more complicated than just making connections between what you see in a movie and what happens in real life.

"You sound like a real cynic," Jerome couldn't help but say, not knowing where to stop. He felt his irritation growing with each passing second. "Is this your tactic, to ignore everything and just live with it?"

Harvey's head snapped around and he looked at Jerome, not with anger, but with a kind of cold curiosity. His gaze was precise, like a man who was used to observing and analyzing, not reacting impulsively. He didn't argue, didn't defend himself, just remained silent, giving Jerome a chance to speak. The silence was heavy, but Jerome felt the tension in the air become even more palpable.

He couldn't hold back his emotions any longer, even though he felt it was useless. The words just came out, as if he was trying to explain something to himself, not Harvey.

"You don't understand..." Jerome began, but didn't finish the sentence, because at that moment Delia's calm but confident voice was heard in the car.

"Jerome, stop," she said, not looking at him. Her tone was quiet but firm, as if she had already assessed the situation and realized that their argument had reached a dead end. "You can't live like this, without being aware of your feelings."

Jerome sighed and turned away, a mixture of irritation and doubt still churning in his chest. His mind raced, trying to figure out what it was about Harvey that was so irritating. Maybe it was his calm, his self-assuredness, or the idea that Harvey had once been part of the world Jerome considered his enemy. Or maybe it was the fact that he was there for them despite it all, willing to help, as if none of their past conflicts mattered.

Delia noticed the tension in the air growing and, despite the fact that she herself was far from calm, she decided to intervene.

"Are you still mad at Harvey about his background and this... damn town?" Her question was direct and without unnecessary caution, but she was not trying to insult him. She was simply asking a question that, in her opinion, could put everything in its place.

Jerome turned to face her, his eyes still full of anger and uncertainty.

"I'm not angry, I just... I can't forget that he was part of that world. How can you just forget that? How can you forget that he was - yes, at one time - someone we considered an enemy?"

Delia smiled, but it was a sad smile. She understood him, more than he realized. She had been through this, too, that moment when it was hard to let go of the past and all its attachments. But she had learned to look beyond that, to not let herself get stuck in old prejudices.

"I can't just forget either," she said quietly, but firmly. "But have you ever considered that we're all going to have to live with this world somehow? Harvey isn't his hometown. We're all here to do our jobs, and if he weren't with us, you might not want us to go in the direction we're going. He doesn't make us worse, he's just... part of it."

Harvey kept his eyes down, shifting his gaze slightly to the road as if he was taking in every word Delia was saying. He knew he had to remain silent and let the situation unfold, because his words wouldn't change anything. Jerome had to come to that realization himself, even if he didn't realize it.