[So this is why Carrie wasn't panicking over Yasu's sudden case of Gothic Novel Protagonist Syncope with everyone else: she saw Jeanne peer in and then leave. She'd almost been finished peeling that apple from earlier, having sliced off the bruises left by throwing it at the screen their captor used to show his presence, then.

It was easier to focus on finishing that than it was to admit she was afraid to go looking for Jeanne, afraid because she'd been quiet when she shouldn't have been. But it was a task soon finished, and so was slicing the apple, and there's only one option for escaping-without-escaping, here. The playground makes sense as a place one might retreat to if the cafeteria is loud and the kitchen populated by someone who accused you of murder repeatedly.]

I think there's still a point, if that's part of what you're contemplating.

[A pause the length of one heartbeat, and then she holds the plate of skinned and sliced apple out towards Jeanne.]

And, um. I know it's not much, but I didn't want to eat it alone.

[Yes, she's completely oblivious to any symbolism here. The narrator, meanwhile, is screaming.]