That second part only works if the public cares.

Given the mayor’s consistently broad (and capricious) interpretation of “official duties,” I think if the police chief tries to do something for what he considers to be directly police-related reasons, it’s fair to consider that task a self-appointed part of the job, at least for purposes of judging him on doing it well or not.

I think that’s also a deep sense of inadequacy. From Fuschia’s “The corps was my dream, it’s only your punishment” (which goes super deep. She really was a burglar and her accepting to get back to the thieves who betrayed her is probably making her question if she isn’t still that) to the fact that the Corps appears to get corrupted at the same time McBell becomes a clown, to her trauma with the mime that clashes with her image of herself as somebody very detached from everything.
There’s this idea that staying with the clowns is
1) not who she truly is/not what she deserves,
2) changing her into just “one of them”, including letting emotions resurface and being used as a tool by the people in power, and
3) making the corps itself worse.

She might think that staying in prison is both better for her and what she deserves, and thus let herself go and “detach” herself again from everything, coming back to that life of loneliness that she knew before and that she just broke out of.

She might think that staying in prison is both better for her and what she deserves, and thus let herself go and “detach” herself again from everything, coming back to that life of loneliness that she knew before and that she just broke out of.

Imo Sorry doesn’t mean much coming from them. They can be as sorry as they want, but I think they probably still would have done the same thing even if she hadn’t given them permission this time.

Given McBell’s deal with includes her kicking them in the genitals hard enough to retroactively sterilize their grandparents, no, she hasn’t forgiven them.