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[audio logo]
[baby softly crying]
- Shh!
Shh!
[desperately] Please.
Shh! [quietly] Please don't cry.
Please, please, please, please.
[baby continues crying]
Shh, shh, please be quiet.
Please be quiet.
[menacing rattling]
[foreboding music]
[baby crying louder]
- [quietly panicking] Please don't cry!
Please, please!
Shh!
[eerie crackling]
- Just don't look at it.
Shh, shh, shh.
Shh! [panting]
Shh!
Please!
Please don't look!
[crying halts]
[crackling]
[white noise on monitor]
- [sighs]
[pump whirring]
[thud upstairs]
[pump continues]
Wyatt?
[suspenseful music]
[door hastily shuts]
Rachel?
No.
[gasps] No!
[screaming]
No!
[door rattling]
[pump whirring]
[screaming continues]
[pumping halts]
[birds chirping]
- Picea abies.
Quercus alba.
Fraxinus americana.
- Norway spruce.
White oak.
American ash.
- Good.
And that one there?
- Betula papyrifera.
- Not quite.
European white birch.
You can tell by the bark.
[wearily inhales] Peels less.
Leaves are triangular.
The double serration is more pronounced.
[heavy music]
[sighs]
[flies buzzing]
How did it start?
- Don't know.
- The caretaker said 11:30.
Maybe there's another door we can try.
[subtle music]
[phone dings]
- [on voicemail] Hi, Ellie.
This is Nicky Gallagher from the bereavement group at Windsor.
I haven't seen you in a while.
I hope you're doing OK.
I just wanted to see if you got the package I sent you.
It's for the photography project I was telling you about.
I know it sounds weird, but a lot of people
say it's very healing.
Anyway, I sent you a link about it, and--
- Mr. Randolph?
Sorry, I-- I tried the front door.
Ellie Grumman.
- And the boy?
- Excuse me?
- Your son assists with the tree work.
Isn't that what my caretaker told me?
- Yeah.
Wyatt's in the truck.
He got a bloody nose.
- Was there an accident?
- No, no.
Just a bloody nose.
- Hm.
- That's a beautiful property you got.
Been here a long time?
- All my life.
Plus whatever's left of it.
- Well, if you want to brief me on the job,
we can start right away.
Caretaker said it would take about three days?
- Somewhat more, I should think.
Murray's away for the month.
He lives in town, anyway, so the cottage is empty.
There's plenty of space for you there.
[gate creaks]
See the footbridge?
- Sure.
- Beyond that, there's a carriage road.
The trees are all marked.
Everything that's marked gets destroyed.
- Destroyed?
- Felled and split for firewood.
15 inches for the downstairs fireplace.
9 inches for the stove in my bedroom.
Stack it in the basement.
- It's just firewood you need?
- Can't be any longer than 9 inches,
otherwise it won't fit in the stove.
There's a tractor and a splitter in the garage.
Grind the stumps up.
- We don't have that equipment.
- Then just let it rot.
- [scoffs]
- Is there a problem?
- No.
No problem.
[suspenseful music]
[eerie crackling]
[music darkens]
[knocks on window]
- Whoa, [scoffs] you OK?
Let's go settle in at the cottage.
[keys clink]
- Is there something else?
- I was wondering if I could get a, um--
an advance, a-- a deposit.
[deeply inhales]
- I can do the full amount.
Check OK?
- Check's fine.
[phone camera clicks]
[truck engine starts]
[gravel crunches]
[unnerving music]
- We should've brought sleeping bags.
- [sighs]
- I'm not sleeping under this.
- Well, you won't have to.
It won't get that cold.
- That pillow smells like cat piss.
- [sighs]
- Why couldn't we just sleep at home?
- Because that's a couple hundred bucks in gas.
And I'm not driving two hours back and forth each day.
Besides, I thought being away from home
might do us some good this time of year.
- Place is in the middle of nowhere.
Don't even get a signal.
- It belonged to my grandfather.
Cut from star magnolia.
Don't find that species anymore.
Anyone who says arboreal extinction isn't real
hasn't gone looking for Magnolia stellata.
- Hey, it's your tattoo.
How come you never talked about him before?
Your grandfather.
- I barely remember him.
[unnerving music]
How many people live in that mansion, you think?
- Just him.
- Just the old guy by himself?
- I guess so.
- Bet our whole apartment building could fit in there.
- Hm.
- Should take over, become squatters.
Think there's any fish in that pond?
- I don't know.
Why?
- Maybe I'll try to catch one.
Fry it up for dinner.
- Yeah, I don't think so.
- You don't think there's any fish?
- No, I don't think you're going fishing.
We didn't come here for that.
- [swallows, deeply exhales]
What?
- Mix it with water so I won't notice?
Is that about right?
Put it in a shot glass or something.
Don't try to hide it in a water bottle
that you wrap with duct tape so you know which one it is.
Yeah, I thought so.
[dishes clatter in sink]
- And what's that supposed to mean?
- [on video] What's the secret?
What's the secret?
- What are you doing?
- Just watching old videos.
- Why don't you go get ready for bed?
[baby cooing]
- Why are you doing this to me?
[door shuts]
[lucy dacus, "night shift"]
You got a 9-to-5
So I'll take the night shift
And I'll never see you again
If I can help it
- [exhales deeply]
[eerie music overlays song]
[cicadas brustling]
[pump whirring]
[thud upstairs]
- [sighs]
- Why are we scared?
How do we heal?
I asked these women to hold the mirror as though they
were holding their child again.
Feel the weight.
Feel the longing.
When we share stories of our loss,
we come to terms with our grief.
We realize we're not alone.
Children are not supposed to die before their parents.
The world moves on.
But for us, life stops.
Time is frozen in its tracks.
A piece of ourselves is forever missing now.
The mirror is a reflection of that emptiness.
We hold it not to heal, not to let go,
but to realize the hole that will forever be a part of us
now.
"Portraits of Grief."
This project was created to support each other,
share our stories, and know that our journey is--
[phone clicks]
[unnerving music]
[stomping]
- Careful.
You'll fall through.
[stomping continues]
- What are those things?
- Lanterns.
Lights.
This must have been some kind of theater.
[fly buzzes, crow caws]
[music rises]
[music fades]
[motor roars]
[chainsaw whirring]
- Off!
Turn that off!
What are you doing?
- What does it look like?
- Not like that!
How many times have I told you?
You start the saw on the ground, one foot in the handle,
with the chain brake on.
You do it standing up like that, it'll kick back.
- That's how you do it.
- It doesn't matter how I do it.
I have had years of practice.
You haven't.
- Whatever.
- Do not drop that.
Look at me.
I said look at me.
- [shouts] What?
- This chain moves at 85 miles per hour.
Do you have any idea what that'll do to your leg?
It'll shred it.
Cut right through to the bone.
- I'm sorry.
- [sharply exhales]
[chainsaw grinding]
[grinding muffles]
[eerie music]
Wyatt?
[eerie clacking]
[pitch rises] Wyatt?
[breathing hitches]
Wyatt!
[muffled knocking]
[knocking gets louder]
- What are you doing?
You scared me.
- This is how I want to be buried.
Leave me for the birds.
- [sighs] Get up.
I need to get a bigger saw from the truck.
[thunder rumbles]
[unnerving music]
[metallic thud]
[indistinct whisper]
[menacing chitter]
[suspenseful music]
[music pitches]
- Wyatt!
[panting]
Wyatt!
Oh, God! No!
Wyatt!
[sobbing]
[sputters, coughs]
- Oh, my God.
Oh!
Oh, never do that to me again.
[baby crying]
[panting]
Don't ever do that to me again.
[eerie music]
- [deeply exhales]
- From now on, Edward stays away from that canoe.
Is that understood?
- It's Wyatt, but yes, understood.
- Wyatt, yes, of course.
Is he all right?
- He's shaken up, but OK.
He lost his phone.
[chuffs]
- Can I see him?
- He's asleep.
- This-- this was mine when I was his age.
I used to fish for bluegills off the bridge over there.
He'll-- he'll have to dig for crawlers in the north garden.
They-- they like it over there because of the shade.
So, um, here.
- Why did you hire me?
- I-- I didn't.
Murray, my caretaker, chose you.
- Why did you hire an arborist?
All you need is a feller with a mill saw.
- It's all the same to me.
- But why those trees?
- Pardon me?
- They're perfectly healthy.
No sign of disease.
There's plenty of firewood close to the house.
- [lightly clicks tongue]
I used to take walks out there.
Recently, I collapsed, became disoriented,
and barely found my way back to the house.
- What is that place?
- Well, it's a children's theater.
Happier days.
- None of my business, then.
[wyatt whimpering]
[muttering] Help, someone!
Help, help, please!
Help!
[crying] Please get me--
get me out.
Get me out.
[whimpering]
- Wyatt?
- Ah!
Get me-- get me out!
[screaming]
- Hey, hey. [softly] Hey, look at me.
You're OK.
Yeah?
[tree crackles]
[thud]
- Well, you are a cord of firewood and a paycheck now.
Life's a bitch.
[chainsaw whirring, grinding]
[grinding muffles]
[children singing] - run away, come again--
[muffled squeal]
[unnerving music]
- Do you remember the dream you had last night?
- Not really?
- Is it the same dream?
The raven?
- [sighs]
No.
I got locked inside the closet again.
- You didn't get locked inside the closet.
You hid in there with your belt tied to the door.
- Whatever.
- Do you remember why you did that?
- I was afraid, I guess.
- Afraid of what?
- That thing that killed Rachel.
- Nothing killed her.
Sudden infant death, that's what they call it.
Basically, just shit luck.
- But I was supposed to check on her that night.
So you could sleep.
- It wouldn't have made any difference.
Bring that load to the house.
Dump it by the splitter.
[chainsaw whirring]
[chainsaw grinding]
[unnerving music]
- [garbled tone] "Nothing killed her."
"It wouldn't have made a difference."
- [breathing hitches]
- Now feed the second rope up through the first loop.
Mhm.
And then rest the working end on top of its standing line.
All right, just pull it through.
Just like that.
Looks good.
Wanna try it again?
That tree is dying.
- What happened?
- Venturia saliciperda.
Willow blight.
That's only half the story.
You can still see where the trunk was split a long time ago.
Probably before you were born.
- Split?
By lightning?
- Yeah.
Or maybe an ice storm.
See that dark, glossy cambium tissue
coming from inside the cavity?
Looks almost volcanic.
That's the wound wood.
It heals up the tree like scar tissue.
Only, in this case, it stopped growing in.
- How come?
- Hard to say.
But it became susceptible to fungus.
At this point, it's basically killing itself.
[dark music]
[intriguing music]
[eerie crackling]
[suspenseful music]
[music pitches]
[thud]
- [whispering] What killed her?
[eerie music]
Rachel.
[music pitches]
Rachel.
- Wyatt!
What's all this water?
What happened to the door?
- What door?
- The garage door.
- I have no idea.
- [exhales sharply]
- I saw something.
- There was nothing under the canoe.
- I'm not talking about the canoe.
- Shit.
[sighing] Fuck.
[breathily groans]
[sighs]
- Something wrong?
- Like I said, you-- you need a feller, not an arborist.
They'll bring a crew in with the proper equipment.
They got a mill saw, even better.
Those pines will give you some quality lumber.
- I'm not interested in lumber.
- Then they'll haul it off.
Look, if all you need is firewood,
there's a dead oak in the field.
It'll give you two cords at least.
I could have that done by tonight.
But after that, it's best that we go.
- You've already been paid.
- [sighs]
- Look, what's this really all about?
- Our door got kicked in.
- There's somebody inside?
- Not that I know of, but there were marks on the floor.
Water.
- Perhaps it was your son.
- Wyatt says it wasn't him.
- Perhaps he's not telling the truth.
- Wyatt doesn't lie.
- He was inside this house.
- When?
- Today.
- That's not possible.
- Come in.
[subtle music]
- [lightly scoffs]
Where did you find this?
- In the parlor.
Must have forgotten to lock my doors.
Boy needs rules.
Discipline.
Give 'em an inch, they take a mile.
Like my brother, Victor.
Got kicked out of every school we ever went to--
public, private, parochial.
My parents hired tutors.
Didn't take to them, either.
Threw his books in the incinerator.
- Why did you call him Edward?
- Pardon me?
- Yesterday, you called my son "Edward."
That was my grandfather's name.
My father's name, as well.
- I don't know.
- Well, thank you for the knife.
I'll see myself out.
[subtle piano music]
[breathy whisper]
[music darkens]
[piano music resumes]
[music darkens]
- Have you been inside Mr. Randolph's house?
- What?
- I'm asking if you've been inside the house.
- No.
[thud]
- Where'd you find that?
- Wyatt, please.
- I must have lost it when I fell out of the canoe.
- Yeah, that perfectly explains how
it got from the bottom of the pond
to the inside of Mr. Randolph's house.
- I didn't go in there!
- Stop it!
Stop lying to me!
[footsteps ascending, descending]
I want you to fix that door before you go to bed.
- I didn't do that.
- I don't care.
Just fix it.
- It followed us here.
- What?
- You know what.
- Enough.
- The raven.
It's the same one--
- Enough!
A goddamn bird in your closet did not kill your sister.
It just happened.
That is all.
I'm sorry it was on your watch.
Stop it! What are you doing?
- She has a name!
- Stop it!
- This is her name! - Wyatt!
- [yelling] Rachel!
Rachel! Rachel!
[screaming] Rachel!
Rachel! Rachel!
[thud]
[chairs thuds]
- Wyatt!
- Stay away from me!
- Wyatt!
[door slams]
[dark music]
[faint whispering]
- [sighs] Yeah.
[baby crying]
[garbled breathing]
- Please help me.
- How?
- I can't walk.
I can't feel my legs.
- Tell me what I'm supposed to do.
- A baby doesn't just die.
I knew you could do it.
- What do you want from me?
- Your hands.
Your courage.
Wyatt-- I'm dying.
[chiming music pitches]
[thud]
- [sputters, coughing]
[lock clicking open]
[thudding upstairs]
[glass shatters]
- Who's here?
Oh.
[shakily inhales]
Oh, God.
[baby crying faintly]
[faint rhythmic music]
- [growling] Show yourself, you!
Show yourself!
[whimpers]
[baby crying]
- What do you want from me?
- I-- I don't know.
- Get out of here.
- What have you done to me?
- Get your mother, pack your trunk, and go.
Get out!
[baby crying]
[crying halts, embers crackling]
- Wyatt!
[whispers] Oh, shit.
[breathing heavily]
[eerie music]
- Get in!
- No.
- We're leaving.
Come on!
We're going home.
- Not yet.
- Get in the truck.
Out!
Now!
[wyatt whimpering]
- [grunts]
Wyatt!
[panting]
Wyatt!
Fuck!
Wyatt!
[flies buzzing]
I just want my son back.
Whatever happened here all these years ago, I really don't care.
- Perhaps you should.
- Who's this?
- My older brother, Victor, and me.
He's the one in the vest.
- Jesus.
[exhales sharply] He looks just like Wyatt
- Yeah.
And that was the estate's crest.
Coat of arms, my father called it, back when that sort of thing
mattered.
- No, it's from an engraving on my grandfather's knife.
- Your grandfather, Edward Grumman, was my first cousin.
Son of Elizabeth Randolph, my father's sister.
- What?
- He spent most of his summers here.
That is, until the tragedy.
I gather you never spoke to your family much.
Edward was more than my cousin.
- Why did you keep this from me?
- He was my best friend.
We-- we fell out of touch over the years.
Things were never the same after that summer.
- You lied to me.
- I wanted to know you first.
My bloodline is all gone.
You and your son are all that's left.
- [panting]
Where are you?
Where are you!
Please!
[crying] You can't make me do this!
[grunting]
- What were those children doing here?
- They were orphans.
A new group came for a week every summer.
All this open space where they could just run and play and just
be happy kids.
[children laughing]
My parents were dealt a privileged hand in life.
They felt this was the least they could do.
A pageant evolved, a tradition inspired
by the pagan solstice and the creatures
of these ancestral woodlands.
[muffled laughter]
Songs recorded by our music teachers.
Costumes stitched together by my mother's maid.
My parents wanted to give them something magical, transcendent.
Something that defied the humdrum
of their orphanage, the bleakness of their existence.
They slept in the parlor after every forest pageant.
[muffled reading]
It was part of the fun.
And it was an evening they never wanted to end.
But Victor-- there was always something not right
about Victor.
I once heard my mother say that he came out of the womb
with a knife in his boot.
The joy our parents gave to those orphans,
it tortured his mind, blackened his heart.
And that night was colder than usual.
Victor knew he could make it look like an accident.
He thought he was so damn clever about it.
He even bragged it to me afterwards.
[gas hissing]
He called them mangy strays.
No one will miss them, he said.
No one will cry.
- [muffled praying]--the bodies of our brothers and sisters,
that they may rejoice in you with your saints forever
and ever.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
- He said he'd kill me if I ever told anyone.
So I didn't.
- What happened to him?
- I asked him to meet me on the bridge.
[shakily exhales]
- You drowned him.
- No, no.
I-- I-- I only pushed him.
The rock knocked him out.
And the water did the rest.
The police investigator said he jumped.
Who was I to suggest otherwise?
- [breathing heavily]
[tires squeal, horn blaring]
- Wyatt!
Wyatt!
[whispers] Wyatt.
Stop!
- He made me do it!
He said I had to kill it.
I had to kill them all.
- OK, OK, calm down. - It was right in front of me.
It was right there. He said I had to kill them.
- Stop! What are you talking about?
[wyatt screaming]
- No!
- Wha--
- [garbled voice] If I have to give another goddamn toothbrush
to these shits, if Daddy asks me one more time to be polite,
share my toys, and let them win--
no wonder their mommies didn't want
them, the mangy fucking strays.
- I'm sorry.
[gasps]
[eerie music]
[music pitches]
[engine sputters]
[folk music]
[singing] Sound the alarms
The animal charms are drifting in the air
[music muffles]
The power beyond compare
Looking for it to dare
The otter is not swimming 'round in the water
Where are you today?
She swam down the stream to the--
[clanking]
- [grunting]
[singing] Sound the alarm
The animal charms--
- [quietly] What's out there?
The raven?
- It's too dark.
I couldn't see.
- You won't eat.
You won't sleep.
Would you at least drink some juice?
[music darkens]
- [struggling grunts]
You take what's yours.
I don't want these things in my house anymore.
Just take what's yours and leave this place for good.
Just-- leave this place!
And the boy's not Victor.
You leave him alone!
You got no business here!
[crying]
Don't you know I think of you?
I remember you.
I remember all of you.
[serious music]
[sniffles] Take me instead, if you must.
[eerie music]
[whimpers]
[flies buzzing]
There's nothing more I can do for you.
- [garbled tone] Kill him.
- [crying] He's not Victor.
- [garbled tone] Soon.
It will be soon.
- Then do it yourself.
[fork clanking bowl]
- How are you feeling?
Can you eat?
Your boots are still wet.
I-- I didn't want to dry them last night
while you were sleeping.
[boots tumbling in dryer]
[dryer buzzes]
[eerie music]
- Why are my boots wet?
[floorboards creaking]
[menacing reverberations]
- Wyatt?
[mirror shatters]
- No.
[water running upstairs]
Stay here.
[suspenseful music]
[water shuts off]
- [screams]
[panting]
[door slams]
[drill whirring]
No!
Wyatt!
Help!
No!
Wyatt!
[music pitches]
[daunting music]
[banging]
[crying]
Ah!
Shit!
- "And thou art dead.
As young and fair as aught of mortal birth.
And form so soft.
And charmed so rare.
Too soon returned to Earth."
The priest proffered those words,
but there was no funeral for you.
Father was exhausted by funerals that summer.
Your death was just a footnote in a summer of unspeakable loss.
How dare you thieve on mourning for those innocent children!
You jumped from the bridge.
[chuckles] How easily they were all fooled.
[music darkens]
You murdered seven innocent children.
I have atoned for my sin.
Can you account for yours?
[music halts]
- [struggling grunts]
- [grunting]
[suspenseful music]
[saw whirring]
- [garbled tone] Victor.
- [grunts]
- [grunting]
- Get him!
[snarls]
[bang]
- Wyatt!
[breathlessly] Wyatt?
Wyatt!
Where is he?
[screams] Wyatt!
[panting halts]
[unnerving music]
- These weren't here before.
I've been in this room.
None of these photographs were here.
- Yeah, but they were.
They've always been.
You just couldn't see 'em.
- I-- I don't understand.
- I didn't exactly collapse at the children's theater that day.
I-- I fell to my knees.
I begged them, forgive me, I beseech you.
That was about a year ago.
- A year ago?
- That's when I first started noticing things.
Lanterns hung in the trees.
Footprints in the garden.
Sticks whittled to spears.
The smell of wet fur after a rain.
I destroyed those photos years ago.
And there they are, still cursing me.
Mocking me.
The book says, "yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished.
He punishes the children and their children for the sin
of the parents to the third and fourth generation."
You don't have much time.
[children's voices rising]
[children's laughter, chatter]
[menacing music]
[ground groaning]
[music pitches]
[muffled feral screaming]
- [panting]
Wyatt!
[flies buzzing]
[crows cawing]
[subtle dark music]
[thwack, splash]
[children singing] Out in the water
Oh, where are you today?
Just ride down the street to the neighbor's farm
To help him mend the fence
- You were the one that had the idea for that song.
You sang it to the sparrows, the wood frogs,
and whatever other little critters you could catch
bare-handed--
before you cut their legs off, gouged their eyeballs out,
burned them with a magnifying glass.
Madness aside, you were always the creative one.
- [garbled tone] Walk me to the pond.
- How could father do that to you?
Every summer, bring those orphans here,
shower them with his love.
He never even spoke to you.
He didn't know you.
[scoffs] He didn't even see you.
- [garbled tone] Walk with me.
- It never should have happened.
The children with poison in their lungs.
Water pushing into yours.
Me on the bridge.
Blood on my hands.
There hasn't been a day when I haven't begged your forgiveness.
Or cursed your existence.
[glass shatters]
- This brother, this boy--
- Is no brother of yours.
Let him go.
The only thing that binds you to him is this broken family.
Our forgotten past.
- Not our past.
Our secrets.
[suspenseful music]
- It's not too late, Wyatt.
Unshackle yourself while you still can.
[grunting]
[strangled] I have missed you, Victor.
[panting]
[music pitches]
Hm.
[daunting music]
[muffled screaming]
- [gasps]
[sputters]
Wyatt!
[sobbing]
Wyatt!
Wyatt.
Wyatt!
- [sputters, coughing]
- Come on, come on.
- Mom, I got it.
- Well, hurry then.
You're freezing.
- Where are we going?
- We're just going.
[thud]
- [breathily shivers]
[suspenseful music]
[door creaks]
[ragged breath]
[floorboards creaking]
[clacking]
- Wyatt?
Let's go.
- I'm practicing.
- What?
- Practicing!
[menacing clank]
[bag hits floor]
- Practicing what?
- The saw!
Starting the saw, like you always told me to do.
"Put the chain brake on, test the chain brake.
Saw can't hurt you if the chain brake's engaged.
One foot through the handle to stabilize it.
You don't pull it standing. You're too small.
[garbled tone] The kickback alone
will knock you off your balance.
The goddamn chain moves at 85 miles per hour.
You know what kind of damage that'll do to your leg?
Do you have any goddamn idea what kind of damage that'll do
to your leg?"
- [screams]
[muffled ooze]
[menacing music]
- Wyatt!
[baby crying]
[door creaks]
- [raggedly breathing]
[baby continues crying]
[eerie clacking]
[baby crying]
- [softly] Yes.
[crying halts]
[baby lightly grunting]
[eerie music]
- [panting]
- Where is my son?
- [garbled tone] Floating in the pond.
Tangled in weeds, fish pecking at his flesh.
- No.
I saved him.
- You lost him.
Your child is mine now.
Empty basket.
- Give me my son.
- For what?
- So he can lock himself in the closet again.
Bite off his nails and piss his pants?
- I'm not leaving, Wyatt.
I am not giving up on you!
[baby cries, ellie grunts]
[music pitches]
[sobbing]
[music halts]
[screaming]
[wood crackling]
[sobs]
[sniffles]
[music lightens]
Wyatt?
[retreating steps]
[thunder rolls]
[wind blowing]
[creaking]
[lightning cracks]
[baby mobile music playing]
- [muffled] Help!
Help!
Help me!
Please!
Please, help!
Help!
Help me!
Help, Mom!
Mom!
Somebody help!
[menacing music]
Mom!
Mom, please, help me!
Please!
- Pull!
As hard as you can!
- [grunts] They won't move!
- Stay calm.
I'm gonna get you out!
- I'm scared!
- I know.
- Please, put her back!
- What's in there?
What's behind you?
- Please, just make her stop crying!
- No one's crying.
She's gone. - No!
No!
[music rises]
[music fades]
[eerie rumbling]
- I picked her up from the crib--
[crying] because she was crying.
I thought she'd settle if I just held her on the couch
for a little while.
I was careful with the way I held her head,
like the way you showed me.
[sniffles]
I watched her fall asleep.
It was so peaceful.
The whole house was quiet.
And I was happy.
But then I-- I guess--
[crying]
- You fell asleep too.
- And when I woke up, she was pinned under my arm
against the back of the couch.
Her skin was blue, and she wouldn't move.
I didn't know what to do.
So I put her back in the crib, but she wouldn't wake up.
I tried to go back to sleep, but--
[sobbing]
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry!
I'm sorry!
[grunts, ragged breathing]
[doors slam]
I'm sorry!
- [softly] It's not your fault. It's not your fault.
We're going to be OK now.
[exhales sharply]
[sniffles]
Aquilegia canadensis.
Thuja occidentalis.
- Canadian Columbine.
Northern white cedar.
[birds chirping]
[car door closes]
[hopeful music rises]
- immediately adjacent to the structure.
I just have some documents for you to sign--
inheritance disclaimer, the title, insurance policy.
I suggest you file a copy of each along with your property
deed.
- Look at this.
Probably the only thing here is still in one piece.
Let me throw it as far as I can.
- OK.
Um, take a picture of me first.
- What?
- Take my picture.
I'll explain later.
- You ready?
[phone camera clicks thrice]
Can I throw it now?
[mirror shatters]
- [light chuckle]
[door closes, engine starts]
[music darkens]
[hopeful music rises]
[Lucy Dacus, "Nightshift"]
[singing] Don't hold your breath
Forget you ever saw me at my best
You don't deserve what you don't respect
Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect
Now bite your tongue
It's too dangerous to fall so young
Take back what you said
Can't lose what you never had
I feel no need to forgive
But I might as well
But let me kiss your lips
So I know how it felt
Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down
Walk for hours in the dark, feeling all hell
You've got a 9-to-5
So I'll take the night shift
And I'll never see you again
If I can help it
In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers
Dedicated to new lovers
You got a 9-to-5
So I'll take the night shift
And I'll never see you again
If I can help it
In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers
Dedicated to new lovers
[vocalizing]
You got a 9-to-5
So I'll take the night shift
And I'll never see you again
If I can help it
In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers
Dedicated to new lovers