Addie LaRue wakes on the rooftop to Sam gently touching her cheek, having fallen asleep in a lawn chair with The Odyssey in her lap. Shivering in the cold March morning, Addie follows Sam downstairs to Sam’s apartment, navigating the crowded, canvas-strewn space to the kitchen for coffee.

As Sam makes coffee, Addie notes small details that mark time even when people forget her. Sam talks openly about her abstract painting—art made from feeling rather than sight—and the two share an easy, intimate rhythm. When Sam asks Addie’s name, Addie answers “Madeline,” and lies that she has just moved into 2F and went to the roof to escape building noise.

Sam brightens at the idea of painting Addie and flips through canvases, describing a series about “people as skies.” The concept triggers Addie’s memory of an earlier night with Sam: Sam painted her as a thick, dark night sky with exactly seven silver “stars.” Sam admits her favorite piece from the series—One Forgotten Night, sold to a collector—was modeled on someone Sam cannot remember, even though Sam remembers everyone else.

Sam tells Addie she resembles that forgotten painting, then retreats, embarrassed, to take a shower. Addie feels the pull to stay and relive another warm present with Sam, but chooses to leave because the relationship cannot build a lasting future under Addie’s curse. Sam confidently promises they will meet again as neighbors, and Addie forces herself to walk away.

Outside, Addie finds a busy café and orders coffee, timing the waiter’s passes like a guard’s patrol. As she reads The Odyssey, she notices the waiter’s brief confusion—the familiar gap where memory of her should be. Unwilling to dwell on loneliness, Addie abandons the book and heads to The Last Word to find something new to read.