Teresa: Do you remember your mother?

Thomas: I think so.

Teresa: I remember mine. She was a beautiful woman. Everybody loved her. And before WICKED, she was all I had. When she got sick, I didn't know what to do. I just kept her locked up. Hidden. I thought she'd get better. Every night, she'd make these awful sounds, like screaming. And then, one night, she just stopped. She was finally quiet. I went down to her room. And there was blood everywhere. But she was just sat there, calm. She said she was feeling better. The visions were gone. She'd taken care of them. She took her eyes out, Thomas. There are millions of people suffering out there. Millions of stories, just like mine. We can't turn our backs on them. I won't.

Thomas: What are you saying?

Teresa: I'm saying, I want you to understand.

Thomas: Understand what?

Teresa: Why I did it.

Thomas: Teresa...

Teresa: Please don't fight them, Thomas.

Thomas: What have you done? What have you done?