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D’OROTHEA: I swear I never meant to lie to you. I swear it.

MONA: -Okay.

D’OROTHEA: -You believe me?

MONA: Sure I do.

D’OROTHEA: I only wanted to work. But no one would hire me. No one. And then I did some jobs in dark makeup, and — and people started asking for the foxy black chick. [ Voice breaking ] I didn’t plan on it. I don’t get it.

MONA: M-Maybe you could just

D’OROTHEA: — I’m a fraud, okay? I’m just a — a white girl from Oakland. Those pills you found — They make your pigment darker. I went to New Orleans for three months and came back…

MONA: Black?

D’OROTHEA: Employed. But it was too much. You have to keep up with the treatments, and I just couldn’t handle it anymore, so I came back home.

MONA: Why didn’t you tell me?

D’OROTHEA: I tried. But you’d whip up some chitlins or — or quote Malcolm X or put on Miriam goddamn Makeba. I-I felt like such a phony. I-I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me. This is — This is my hair. I-I do have naturally curly hair. So I’m not a total liar.

MONA: I thought you were dying! I thought those pills were because you were dying!

D’OROTHEA: -Of what?

MONA: -What else? Sickle-cell anemia. [ Laughs ]

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