The scene opens with the cat fleeing the alley as police arrive, choosing safety and anonymity over attachment; it brushes its tail through the still-wet paint before disappearing. Louisa runs until exhausted, exhilarated by having painted with her idol, then breaks into a parked car and sleeps deeply, as she once did when Fish was beside her.

The artist awakens in a hospital, disoriented, and sees Ted, a lifelong friend, at his bedside. Mistaking Ted for Joar at first, the artist reveals how deeply the past haunts him. Ted confirms they are in a hospital and, with frustration, recounts that police mistook the artist for a homeless vandal; he also confirms Louisa escaped. Ted shows a postcard that belongs to Louisa, which the artist recognizes.

Ted presses for an explanation. The artist admits he tried to sneak into the church auction to see his painting on a white wall one last time and then circled to the alley looking for a way in “like when we were fourteen.” He jokes about making friends with a cat and about dying, while Ted struggles with anger and terror at the impending loss. The artist, who has stopped ineffective medication, insists he is not afraid and calls his life long, while Ted feels it tragically short.

A nurse briefly enters, gently acknowledging the artist’s impact on her husband, and declines any transactional interaction. After she leaves, Ted reveals he fulfilled the artist’s request: he bought the world-famous painting at enormous cost. The artist is grateful, quipping that artists should die poor, and for once Ted makes him laugh.

Ted hangs the painting on the hospital wall in place of the emergency-exit map. The artist cries as he looks at it—an image of Ted and their friends on the pier the summer they were still children—while Ted takes his hand and promises to inscribe, “I love you and I believe in you,” on his gravestone. They speak about the skull motif returning on the alley wall and about Louisa, whom the artist describes with admiration for her raw power and her imminent eighteenth birthday.

The artist reflects on Easter, chance, and grace, telling Ted not to mourn him and calling Ted the most beautiful thing he has seen. As the night deepens, the narration broadens to the ringing phones that will announce the death of a world-famous artist, contrasting public mourning with Ted’s private devastation and the incomprehensibility of absence.

With humor intact, the artist whispers one last grave joke, and the intimacy of their bond culminates as Ted climbs into the bed, and they hold each other. In Ted’s arms, the artist peacefully dies—his passing momentarily belonging only to Ted before the world claims it at dawn. The artist’s final whispered instruction is: “Find Louisa. Give it to her.”