Phaedra points, beleaguered, toward the now-headless statue of Shoshana.

Phaedra: Shoshana? Your NIECE? You know, the one whose HEAD you just tore off?

The two Cheths look at each other with pained expressions. The lady lifts the bottle and chugs from it wholeheartedly, as the man looks wearily toward Phaedra.

Cheth: Sure. Yes. ...Right.

Phaedra puts a hand to her chin, thinking.

Phaedra: If it can't resurrect you directly... then it has to be a part of the process.... But WHAT?

With the bottle still raised to her face, the lady looks toward Phaedra with a smile.

Cheth: WHAT indeed. Maybe you can think it through, Philemon...