Sitting on a Prospect Park bench across from the Brooklyn Museum, Cyrus listens again to a voicemail from Sang Linh, Orkideh's gallerist and former wife. Reeling at Orkideh's death after only days of knowing her, Cyrus marvels that Sang—who shared decades with the artist—can speak in coherent sentences. He reflects on grief shrinking across centuries until it has become something scrolled past on a phone.

Cyrus calls Sang back. She confirms that Orkideh died by her own hand, on her own terms, and explains that Orkideh had spoken about Cyrus and the conversations they shared, which meant a great deal to her. Sang notes that Orkideh lived for something and knew when she was done. Cyrus, increasingly disoriented, presses Sang on why she is specifically calling him.

Overcome by an unspeakable suspicion, Cyrus asks whether Orkideh was his mother. Sang's response—"How long have you known?"—confirms it. She tells Cyrus that Orkideh wanted to tell him herself, that she had recognized him instantly when he appeared in line at the museum, not even knowing he was in America. Cyrus says aloud, "Roya was my mother," reckoning with the revelation that his mother did not die on Flight 655.

While still on the phone, Cyrus pulls up images of Orkideh online, searching her face for traces of the Roya in his father's wedding photo and traces of himself. He tells Sang he is still by Prospect Park, and Sang sets out to drive to him.