Original subtitles

It's not worth it. Let's go back.

No problem I've always loved the mechanic.

And where are we going?

Annunciation convent. Death of a nun.

Death of boredom, disillusionment... How sad.

If I tell you that this is the 2nd violent death

in less than 3 months at the Annunciation.

A serial killer among the nuns?

We're off.

You're so unpredictable.

A nun who fell from heaven.

The martyrdom of the fallen angel who lost her wings.

And the nun who was burned to death?

I'd say it was more like an accidental burn

Collateral damage.

She was there at the time of the other's fall.

The real victim is her: sister Juliette, 35 years old,

who fell from up there.

Or was pushed.

I'll have to examine the wounds on her hands

to determine if they are linked to her fall

or if she bears traces of a struggle.

- Anyway, as usual... - Anything is possible.

Anything... You mean you and me after all?

What's up, Lieutenant?

Captain Cain, cop and paraplegic,

in charge of the investigation.

I'm in charge of this convent.

All right, Mother.

Is that how they say it?

It feels weird, I'll get used to it.

Can we talk to you for a few moments, quietly?

You wait for me here for a while, I'll be back as soon as I can.

Excuse me.

What's going on?

Go back to praying with the others.

Go back.

Too bad they don't have a number on their back

so we can track them down.

Do you think we could find her easily

the pretty little bad-ass?

Because I'd love to exchange a few words with her.

In the meantime,

we'll just go meet the collateral damage.

Sister Caroline.

She's in the infirmary.

This can't go on.

We can't let it go on.

I don't want to, I can't.

- I don't want to shut up anymore. - Shh.

You're in shock.

You've just lived through a terrible moment.

Your mind is getting confused,

you need to rest.

There you go.

That's it.

They say they're concerned about their fellow man

and they can't even get up to the standards of the handicapped.

The other violent death two months ago, do you have a list?

Sister Josephine, 32 years old,

victim of a drug overdose.

She would have confused paracetamol tablets

with her treatment anticoagulants.

The two boxes looked the same.

That's the problem with generics.

That's what led to the conclusion of the accident?

- Yeah - Well, here you go!

Come and help me!

- Are you the nurse sister? - Sister Maryse.

We've come to see your little resident.

The one who set herself on fire in the church.

The fervor of faith,

you can't imagine the damage it can do.

Have you noticed? It's like in the Smurfs:

sister Gardener, sister Musician...

I'm sorry,

she's in no condition to answer you.

Did you shoot her up?

She's in a state of shock.

She needed to recover.

Scarifications.

In the past, it was a medical practice of purification.

Did you study at the university of the Middle Ages, sister Doctor?

I dare to hope that you don't use this kind of methods anymore.

My God, no!

Of course not.

In this case, it's self-mutilation.

Scarifications are common in fragile people

who keep secrets too heavy for them.

No? Are there any secrets here?

That's not what it seemed to me when I saw the mother abbess

take Sister Without Number away.

Do you think Sister Caroline has any secrets?

No.

No, no, I'm telling you, she just seemed to be in shock.

She saw Sister Juliette fall at her feet.

You know, we cops, we'd love to be

like your boss up there:

say, "Light," and bam! let there be light.

But we're just poor humans, so we're struggling

to find the light switch.

Forget what the captain just said.

He always confuses everything.

Let's start again calmly.

Caroline may have seen someone in the company of Sister Juliette.

Someone who could have pushed her.

Why would anyone imagine such things?

It's true, lieutenant. Why would anyone imagine such horrors

in the house of God?

God has nothing to do with this story.

Stop for five minutes.

- Sorry, I forgot. - What?

That you almost wore the habit, the veil.

One doesn't necessarily have to be a believer

to be respectful.

That's true.

I have total respect. But I'm more inspired

by the Old Testament, the Flood, the Tower of Babel,

violence, betrayal, the serpent, the apple.

It suddenly makes me want an apple.

Do you have an apple?

No.

But there's jam in the pantry, if you want it.

There you go.

Apple for the biped

and jam for the guy who's legs are all messed up.

And I had a memory of the sisters knitting

or making rosaries.

We don't waste time at your place.

Even in the worst companies, collective agreements

grant mourning periods for their employees.

Ah well, that explains it!

Sisters of the month like in fast food restaurants.

It's just to encourage initiatives.

Sister Josephine.

Drug overdose?

- Sister Caroline - The flamer.

And here, Sister Juliette, the fallen angel.

Wouldn't it be bad luck to be in the management's little papers?

Yeah, because these three,

it didn't really work out for them.

I thought we only worshipped God here, not big business.

Our Church has lost a lot of its influence.

If we're going to survive, we have to provide for ourselves.

Our mother abbess had the intelligence to understand this.

And this is compatible with the spirit of equality

and disinterestedness to which you have vowed.

Of course.

This is not what your management methods say.

Because whoever says search for recognition says rivalry, jealousy and even rancor.

So, we blamed Sister Juliette and the others

for their favorite places.

I assure you that you are on the wrong track.

How can you be so sure?

You wanted to talk to me, Captain?

Madame CEO.

Your architecture!

It looks like a Stations of the Cross designed especially for me.

Do you think that if I come back regularly,

I have a chance to get forgiveness?

Sorry about what else? I wonder.

That's a lot of questions at once and a lot of anger, too.

It must be tiring with all that anger, Captain.

Because our world doesn't make you angry, do it?

Yes it does.

Why do you think I'm entering the orders?

Annoying, isn't it, someone who remains impassive to your snags?

Very.

Sister Juliette was a warm young woman,

formidably devoted,

appreciated by all.

Et Spiritus Sancti.

Save the hagiography for the eulogy.

What interests us, is the truth,

the secrets, the faults, the conflicts.

Everything that in your country is called sin and in ours, motive for murder.

Why do you want it to be a murder?

To justify my expense account?

Perhaps because it is the 2nd time in less than three months

that a violent death has taken place within your walls.

And that the first time, we may have concluded a little too quickly that it was an accident.

Generic drugs,

it's true, are confusing for the elderly.

But Sister Josephine, she was 32 years old.

That's a little young to be old.

Who could have helped Sister Josephine to deceive herself? Sister Juliette to fall?

Who could have blamed them?

And for what?

For the privileged place she had in your small business?

Sister Caroline may have some answers, but...

It's a shame, we can't talk to her.

Sister Josephine...

ended her life...

voluntarily.

I didn't show the farewell letters

she wrote to justify her act.

Suicide is not only one of the most serious sins

in our religion, but it is also...

a statement of failure for me...

for my convent.

Humanly speaking, it is human.

But criminally,

it is an offence of obstruction of justice.

And about Sister Juliette, what are you hiding from us?

Nothing.

And what about sister Caroline,

are you going to tell us that these dozens of scars

are commonplace?

I don't know what you're talking about.

And in any case,

it has nothing to do with sister Juliette's death

which, as I told you, is a terrible accident.

You're only going to succeed

with all your questions

in sowing discord and suspicion.

And it's ugly, it's ugly, but it's our job.

And anything you don't tell us, we'll end up finding out ourselves.

Did I tell you about the switch?

Another time.

If she thinks she's going to stop us like that, the head penguin,

she's got her finger in the eye, to the core.

At the same time, she's right on one point:

you're angry all the time.

Yes, so what?

So what? So what's left for me,?

Anger returned?

Oh no, worse: pacification.

Always smoothing things over, playing the nice assistant.

Maybe I'd also gain, from getting angry.

Maybe it would do me good, too.

Have you ever thought of that? No!

Not once! Not once!

Because since we've been working together, your blindness, your selfishness,

- It makes me... - Angry?

I love you when you're like that.

What would you say if

you invited me to your place tonight?

It's because you think.

I have water damage at the hotel

and as I want more ambiguity with Gaëlle...

You'd rather have it with me.

- Sister Juliette, she was sweet. - Patient.

Very sensitive too.

It's true, everyone loved her.

Sister Caroline was very well.

The Mother Abbess?

She knew how to give a new energy to the convent.

Her relationship with Sister Juliette was excellent.

Do you think they had a crash course

special formatting?

Possible because there is nothing that sticks out.

If no one dares to speak, I dare! - Stop it Axelle!

I'm really sorry,

but I'm going to have to ask to leave.

Your colleagues from the forensic science have concluded that it was an accident.

My lawyer has just confirmed this. You don't belong here anymore.

So what?

Have warned the witnesses before the cops now?

But it's not "we".

Stunia has found small pieces of glass

in sister Juliette's hand.

Those from a defective light bulb that she was trying to change

on the church pediment.

Wait, you want me to believe

that she simply slipped while trying to change a light bulb?

That's what her footprints

on the ledge confirm.

It's an accident, we close the case.

It's not an accident

and we don't care what

the forensic specialists say.

Well, shit, what! A technician, what's that worth

next to a field cop?

Those real cops of which you are a part, who see the witnesses

and the victims' relatives eye-to-eye,

who listen to their testimony, and their silence,

who can sense right away whether it's the stupid death

or the death caused by carelessness, love, jealousy, hate.

You can see that you agree with me,

otherwise you would have already sent me to my office

with a wheel embedded in my head.

And your field cop, you have him in front of you, closer to the field

than any cop, for that matter.

And he tells you that the atmosphere of this convent

is poisonous.

I agree on one point:

nothing will replace the field.

Only, here, in front of me, I have an incoherent guy

who insists on seeing murders everywhere.

So, whether you like it or not, we have technicians

who have made him talk, the field.

It was an accident, period.

I don't want to disturb you, but since this morning,

this story about the nuns, it reminded me of something.

If you talk about nuns you're not disturbing Borel.

It may not be fundamental, especially since, in the end, it's quite vague,

but still.

It's the little details that make sometimes the big investigations.

Well, a few weeks ago, I was on duty at the reception desk

and a nun came to file a complaint.

I asked her to wait

until someone was available.

But when I called her, she had changed her mind

and was leaving with a friend.

At the time, I didn't think anything of it,

but in light of new elements...

What had she come to tell us?

Something that could have prevented Juliette's death.

Fred, not only have we no complaints,

but we don't even know who this good sister is.

If it's possible, she's from a completely different convent.

Oh no, that, I checked.

I had her identity on record.

She's from the Annunciation convent.

Caroline Prévost, known as Sister Caroline.

The little scarred girl, who has secrets too heavy for her.

And her friend?

The one who came to prevent her from lodging her complaint?

Can you describe her to me?

A good sister.

I'll give you that, there's nothing that looks more like a penguin

than another penguin.

So? Shall we close the investigation?

It was a pleasure to spend a little time with you.

Me too.

I had a blast.

Lasagna, antipasti,

and to end on a sweet note,

the best tiramisu in Marseille.

No, but I didn't say yes.

No, but you didn't say no either.

Which amounts to the same thing.

So, Sister Caroline would be our entry key.

The most convincing one, in any case.

Speaking of Sister Caroline,

you know a lot about scarifications?

Your difficult adolescence?

We can't hide anything from you.

Nothing.

Yes?

What's the matter? I've got some dirt in my nose ?

Parsley between my teeth ?

Why do you like it so much to go and make trouble

with the nuns ?

Basically, you respect them.

It's the low masses that I don't like.

And you ?

For a young woman who hesitated between the army and the orders,

doesn't it make you feel strange this return to the blessed sources ?

No, it would be more of an advantage.

I know how God's little wives work.

I was younger, I knew a great priest.

A working-class priest.

He's a kind of substitute father.

Anything but a devotee of low masses.

And finally, you opted for the army.

Yeah!

the hijinks and the action, that's more my thing than...

prayer and knitting.

What?

military, nun.

boinking, action.

I understand that you have a bit of trouble keeping

a man.

Don't panic.

Normally, with a good psychoanalysis,

you should be able to solve this femininity problem.

The whole challenge is that it happens before menopause.

Sorry.

That was a stupid joke.

It's nice to chat with you like this.

I made you a little pillow and a comforter.

Come on, good night, Captain.

Good night, Lieutenant.

I know you're in there.

We could open this door, and then...

And then what do we open it to?

Apology from me.

Forgiveness from you.

We fall into each other's arms.

And then...

And then a one-night stand.

A free couple.

What's your vision of us?

You don't answer.

Okay, maybe we're not ready.

But do we always have to be ready?

We could take the risk, there, now.

It's easy: just open the door.

Okay. As you wish.

It's probably better that way

Come on, good night, Lieutenant.

I wanted to add, though, since we have no proof

that you are, in fact, behind this door

and that we had this exchange,

tomorrow, we can do as if nothing had happened,

right?

This may all be a dream.

Caroline, come back!

Caroline!

Caroline! Come back!

Doc, you're making us get up at 5 a.m.

to tell us that our key witness is out.

Then it would be a matter of serving us something other than

"Maybe" and "Not so simple."

In her blood, I found traces of anxiolytics

from about 24 hours ago.

The ones Sister Nurse gave her after the fire.

And a recent and not insignificant

amount of flunitrazepam, a powerful sleeping pill.

The kind they give to make sleep or to silence

or put out of commission.

So, she wanted to talk.

She was prevented from doing so. So she ran away to try to find

outside help.

Yes, that would fit with what

the truck driver said.

He saw the arms raised, as if to stop him,

but it was too late.

He also talked about a nun who was chasing her.

And where is the nun chasing her?

She went inside to pray.

Speaking of praying, I have something for you.

Perhaps a small miracle.

Sister Juliette,

in her analyses, I found a cocktail of tranquilizers

associated with paroxetine,

an antidepressant denounced for having had often an opposite effect

to the one sought.

That is to say?

Disinhibiting the depressive

who takes action and commits suicide.

Are you telling us that Juliette's death

would potentially be a suicide?

Added to Sister Josephine,

we would have two suicides in a few weeks.

Then, with Sister Caroline, who threw herself

almost under the wheels of a truck,

- we would have three. - Impossible.

Unless there is a common reason to all this.

Unbearable pressure,

the voice of silence,

moral and criminal harassment

set up in the institution.

It's already been seen in a company.

And as far as we know, this convent is also a company.

- So what do we do? - I don't know.

But I'm going to take a vacation.

- Here, look.

The convent offers a hotel service: room and board in a cell

for holidaymakers looking for serenity.

That's all of me, right?

I would have offered you to come with me

but they only welcome married couples.

It's written in bold on their brochure.

By the way, did you have any nice dreams last night?

No, I didn't dream at all.

Good.

I've already told you:

all our rooms are taken.

Ah! Lucky guess!

It looks like this one escaped your vigilance

I'm not saying you didn't want to take me in.

Windowless.

Great for concentration.

What's the activity program?

Your little flyer says that all residents

must participate in the community.

And I've always dreamed of killing a chicken.

Is there anything you feel most comfortable with?

Feathering? Cutting? Packaging? Accounting, maybe?

When I was a kid at school,

we always stuck my table to the teacher's desk.

I'm going to keep my old habits.

Especially since we have a lot of things to talk about, don't we?

Is it Caroline's death, your little protégée,

that is affecting you so much?

I...

- We are all upset. - Are you?

It's surprising.

I thought you would be relieved, on the contrary.

Well yes,

you are at peace now.

She won't talk anymore. Never.

Isn't that what you wanted?

That's enough, Captain.

- I don't know what you are looking for... - Sister Caroline was at the SRPJ

to lodge a complaint. Did you know?

Didn't you know?

But a good soul had come all the way to dissuade her from doing so.

The same good soul, I suppose, who saw to her silence yesterday

by stuffing her with sleeping pills

so that she could no longer answer to our questions,

and who went so far as to pursue her during the night.

To protect what?

To protect who?

But I wasn't chasing her! I'm trying to catch her!

In her state, I was worried.

Sister Maryse is absolutely not guilty of anything.

She has nothing to reproach herself for.

What I'm asking myself deep down is:

which one of you protects the other better?

But hey, I talk, I talk,

even though I came to help.

Preums!

Yesterday you wanted to talk to me

and today you are mute like a grave.

Have you been lectured?

Do you really think that someone killed sister Juliette?

Me, not at all.

But you, on the other hand.

Come on, I heard you in the nave, under the arches.

You wanted to denounce someone.

The mother abbess?

Sister Maryse?

Both of them, maybe?

Go ahead, it's the right time, we're quiet here.

You know, fear,

it makes more victims

than all the serial killers put together.

You've got a temper.

Tell me what you know.

And if possible before we have a fourth victim.

It's Sister Maryse,

she always wants us to do more,

to excel.

You could say it's a way to encourage us,

but it's mostly a way

to put us under pressure,

to create rivalries,

competition between us.

You want to talk about harassment, say the word.

It had pushed sister Juliette to the end of her rope.

Caroline had understood it, but didn't dare say anything.

The others suffer in silence.

You...

Are you going to be able to help us?

If you help me.

The mother abbess, she's the one pulling the strings, isn't she?

Yes, it all comes from her.

These are her ideas,

her system.

Pitting one against the other,

making her darlings stand out,

loving them like her own daughters

and abandoning the others.

But Sister Maryse will explain to you that it's to promote

the coherence of the community.

Perfect. We'll write it down.

No!

- What did I say about fear? - That's easy for you.

Captain.

Excuse me a moment.

An urgent need to see me?

Since I don't get a vacation, I've been doing paperwork.

Bing!

Mother Abbess' resume.

Before she took care of souls, she took care of bodies.

Midwife.

And doctor.

And she still officiates as a doctor

within the community.

Given the drug involved in all the deaths,

I think it might have its importance.

You think so, lieutenant. Very well.

And sister Maryse would act at the request of the abbess mother

for the medicines.

And for the rest,

unfailing loyalty.

And she, then, she made revelations to you?

Nothing that can be used as proof yet, but I don't despair.

Is it the testimony of sister that you are looking for

or the company of the pretty young woman under the veil?

Why? Are they incompatible?

I don't know. I'm just saying.

No prescription, no trace.

Where is she, Axelle?

you mysteriously made her disappear?

Drugged with I don't know what medication?

- Asleep for eternity? - No!

How far are you willing to go to follow the rules?

Axelle is picking apricots at my request.

No kidding?

High up, balancing on a ladder,

where I have no chance to follow her.

Guiding novices in their discernment,

that's also part of my responsibilities.

Perfect.

Do you want to play? Then we'll play.

But on my territory and with my rules.

What exactly do you want, Captain?

To understand.

To understand why these 3 young women who entrusted you with their lives, their souls,

came to more or less voluntarily put an end to their lives.

To understand how you do it.

And more importantly, why you do it.

What sadistic pleasure you find in controlling their lives.

That's enough!

I forbid you!

Ah yes, forbidding.

You like that, don't you?

But here you don't forbid anything to anyone.

Here you have no power.

Here you are just my suspect

for the death of three young sisters.

You don't know what you are talking about.

You are the one who likes power.

And above all, who can't stand the authority

Three deaths

and each time, dubious medications,

medications you prescribed without any records, without any trace

and administered in full discretion

by your devoted Maryse.

Why?

I sometimes make oral prescriptions

in an emergency.

Not to shirk just for the sake of efficiency.

As for sister Maryse,

I've known her for twenty years, she is not guilty of anything,

if not of excessive dedication.

Bravo, nice plea.

But you can't imagine what kind of people

we receive in our communities.

We welcome everyone.

So, some are adrift, without reference points, traumatized.

They end up with us as in the place

of the last chance.

We do our best

with tortured souls and damaged bodies.

But we don't work miracles.

So, sometimes,

despair wins out.

It takes the form of suicide,

self-mutilation, endangerment.

And we remain powerless.

You want to know if I ask myself

questions about my responsibility? The answer is yes.

You want to know if it keeps me from sleeping?

The answer is yes.

You want to know if I am a monster,

power-hungry who manipulates his fellow man?

The answer is no.

I guide.

But I don't impose anything.

Guiding?

It can mean many things.

She's reaching new heights in the art of rhetoric, right?

Or maybe she is simply sincere.

Her speech holds up, her arguments are valid.

Provided we forget Axelle's testimony.

Axelle... She finds no comfort in prayer.

Her need to seduce is worthy of a midinette.

What is she doing at the convent?

How charming, that little hint

of jealousy that pierces through.

Charming and quite flattering.

Do you hear what I'm trying to tell you?

Yes. You have no confidence in Axelle's testimony.

Thank you, Mother!

I think I could spend my life like this,

breathing the wind, looking at the sun and the sea.

Why did you enter the convent?

Why are you asking me this?

You are young, pretty, sensitive.

You like to seduce,

enjoy the beauty of the world, its gifts,

that feeling of freedom.

Why give up all that?

It can't be explained.

One day you feel the faith, the call of God...

Not to me!

Especially not from you.

When they pray, your sisters' eyes

shine with a fervor that is unknown to me. Not yours, Axelle.

Your eyes don't shine with any kind of brilliance when you pray.

You don't care much about God.

Look at me, Axelle.

There, you have your answer.

Why did I enter into the orders?

Why don't I throw myself wholeheartedly

into the freedom,

the sensuality that the world offers me?

It's called a caudal appendage. That's nicely put, isn't it?

Congenital and inoperable.

It's not me who renounces the world,

it's the world that doesn't want me, not different people,

especially women, and especially if they are beautiful.

And tell me,

you who are so sensitive to my beauty,

to my sensuality

now that you know it, if I put my hand there, like that,

does life always reserve for me the gifts you were talking about?

What does it do to you, the different one, the handicapped one

who is so much looking to be accepted, to feel disturbed

by another difference ?

Because even if your brain denies this rejection with all its might,

it can be read, there, on your face,

and between your legs.

Maybe we'll go home now.

Yes, it's better to take me back to the convent.

In my place.

Oh no, I was dreaming of you.

So, you're also looking into about Axelle?

How do you know it's about her?

We've just got her DDASS file back.

The story of her handicap is there.

As well as an obviously complex past.

Yes?

Abandoned at birth.

She grew up in foster care without ever being adopted.

- Because of her disability? - One can imagine.

It is perhaps in reaction to that too that she has a disturbed adolescence,

multiplying provocations, petty crimes.

But, tell me: do you protect more your little protégé?

No? Don't tell me that her deformity

has anything to do with the uneasiness you feel.

I'd like to tell you that it doesn't.

At the same time, we have a new face of her personality.

It colors her testimony differently.

It's normal that it changes your perception a little.

Is it normal, really?

I don't know.

Bipeds, I can see through. Handicapped people, even worse.

Axelle is neither one nor the other.

She is atypical.

All I know,

is that the investigation is in the process

of changing radically.

Madame Lafarge is waiting for you.

Good morning, thank you for coming.

Would you like me to talk to you about Axelle?

This kid, even when she's gone, she continues to cause me concern.

Frankly, do you think that it's easy for me

to come all the way here with the kids?

I didn't think I'd ever see you again.

How much confidence can I place in you?

That's for you to judge.

Why are you lying, Axelle?

Excuse me?

About your vocation, your deformity.

You have never had a call of faith

and you claim that your handicap is incurable when it is very well operated.

Why? What are you playing at?

We did some research as far as I can see.

Internet, and bang!

But what do you think?

That in three clicks, you have done the whole of the question

and that you can arrive there, in front of me, as a saviour?

You don't want to get rid of your tail

because it is your identity.

Your handicap is your power,

your tool of manipulation, of victimization.

And believe me,

when it comes to victim power, I know what I'm talking about.

Who do you think you are?

You don't know anything about me.

I would just like you to regain the dignity you have lost.

And as Mother Abbess would say, I can guide you.

As for the rest, you make your own choices.

Go away!

I obey you with pleasure...

for the moment.

Obviously,

it is not in her foster family that Axelle found the affection

that she lacked.

You don't need to read between the lines

to understand her manipulative and perverse side, ready to do anything to eliminate

her rivals and obtain exclusive attention.

Do you think she would have replayed the same score in the convent?

It would be absurd?

No.

But it remains a hypothesis.

A hypothesis to which is missing a link.

The mother abbess, I'm convinced, is hiding something from us.

And I thought I was giving you a surprise.

I had anticipated your curiosity.

- My unpredictable side? - That's it.

I've kept privileged relations with the Church.

You know, from the time when I almost entered,

my problems with my femininity, all that.

Lucy...

It's nothing, it's nothing.

Anyway, thanks to my pistons, I was able to obtain confidential information

on the past of the mother abbess.

Did you see that?

Why do you think I've just to go for a 20 km walk

urgently?

For a bucolic stroll with you?

I was 17 years old.

My parents left me no choice.

I had to give birth under X and abandon my baby.

Let's imagine a little story, will you?

Let's imagine that born under X, this baby,

handicapped

and persuaded that it was the reason of its abandonment,

had no cease to find its biological mother

in a mixture of search of love and vengeful rage.

Let's imagine always in this crazy hypothesis

that she found her mother here, in the convent,

and that she became mother abbess,

that is to say, mother of all,

whereas she had never been her own mother

I would like to add something to your story.

Let's imagine that the child was mistaken.

Let's imagine that the mother never had

the opportunity to hold her in her arms and that, as a result,

she was never aware of her disability.

Let's also imagine that everything her life path,

from her midwifery studies

to her entry into the orders,

was only the direct consequence of a forced abandonment

that she never forgave herself.

And in this story,

couldn't the mother

have told her daughter everything?

No doubt she is still looking for the strength to do so.

And how would this baby who has become an adult

have reacted to this situation?

And how far would the mother be ready to go to cover up for her?

You have a lot of imagination, Captain.

In this story,

it would still be necessary to prove that the daughter is the perverse manipulator

that some people suspect her to be.

And for the moment,

in the story,

as I imagine it at least,

nothing is proven.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you.

All of this reinforces our convictions.

Yes, but we still don't have a shred of evidence.

What?

You look very nice tonight.

How do you like this little picnic?

Can't we stay on topic?

And you told me, "A professional dinner."

Absolutely.

This is Axelle's favorite place.

You can't stay focused two minutes, now, can you?

I didn't say anything.

At the same time, there is one point that bothers me.

The antidepressants that Juliette was taking,

they were known to have in some people

the opposite effect of what was intended.

Yeah, right.

If her medication was making her worse,

why would the mother abbess continue to give it to her?

We're in agreement.

I'll look into it.

Oh, my God!

You know what the Romans said

or what they still say in our countryside

about owls?

That they are bearers of bad omens.

Harbingers of death.

They are just sordid superstitions.

Someone is enjoying making them real.

Listen, it's time to talk to your daughter.

If not, I'll do it.

I'm tired of playing.

- Are you still here? - Yes.

But I'm well on my way and I'm leaving soon.

I now know everything about your past

and that of the mother abbess as well as the bond that unites you.

I even know things that you, don't know.

Like, for example,

that your mother didn't abandon you because of your deformity.

She didn't even know about it.

And above all, that she didn't abandon you of her own free will

but was forced to do so by her parents.

Did she tell you that?

And do you believe her?

You still haven't understood the codes,

the permanent hypocrisy?

Obviously,

if you prefer to remain locked in your role of victim

and refuse all the truths

which would allow you to get out of it, that's your right.

Well, that's fine, then. Goodbye, Captain.

I have another problem:

the drugs that we found in Juliette's body,

it's you who slipped them into her food

so that she would crack.

Juliette had stopped taking her medication

precisely because of their harmful effect.

And you were prescribed at exactly that time.

Troubling, isn't it?

I confiscated them from your room. Searching is my pet peeve.

You may have a lot of problems, Axelle,

but you are not depressed.

And you have never taken her antidepressants.

Nice work!

As for Joséphine, all you had to do was to switch medications.

Sister Juliette, Sister Joséphine,

we'll give you a big prize

by adding Caroline to your list of achievements.

Joséphine, her suicide was spontaneous, without any connection with me.

It was seeing the trouble it caused in the community

that gave me the idea for the sequel.

That's what Caroline had understood and wanted to denounce.

She had caught me several times pressing on Juliette's feeling

of guilt, on her despair.

It must be said that the drugs had made my work easier.

Poor Caroline.

It was her lucidity and her determination that finally got the better of her.

It's 10:41 a.m.

I'm going to ask you to follow me

for the beginning of your custody.

I'm not going anywhere.

I will never repeat publicly what I've just told you.

This will be our little secret, Captain.

I suspected as much. But you know,

a simple blood test will allow to prove

that you never took those drugs

and that they were only used for criminal purposes.

Now what?

Now, excuse me, Captain,

it's going to be time for lunch, then confessions.

I wouldn't want to miss this.

All my sins are weighing on me and I need to collect myself.

I'm going to need some gear.

And some backup.

I have a heavy heart of sin

that I need to make amends for.

Is this what you're looking for?

I saw you sneaking into the church

earlier

before the service.

I couldn't imagine it and yet you were right.

And with this, no more doubts.

No more secrets.

The judge will put the exhibit in the file and this case will be over.

It's not going to be possible.

I've erased all of the contents.

Do you realize that you are protecting a criminal?

My daughter.

I'm protecting my daughter.

I'm going to leave the orders.

I'm going to become what I should have been all along:

Axelle's mother.

Axelle needed a mother when she was a child.

Today, she needs limits, sanctions

Axelle is still a child

looking for the love she didn't have.

Giving it to her is probably the best way to heal her.

Love doesn't save everything.

Your daughter has committed crimes.

I have good contacts with humanitarian organizations.

One of them offers me a medical position

and agrees to take Axelle as a volunteer on the field.

I hope this will help her find a meaning to her life.

- And what do you imagine? - That you can fix everything?

Let me laugh!

No, Axelle!

Do you think you can leave me and then take me back?

Decide everything for me?

What kind of life do I need? When I need it?

What kind of love?

I'm sorry, but it doesn't work like that.

Axelle, we'll talk calmly, but you have to come down from there.

I'll come down, don't worry

but maybe not by the way you expect.

I thought all my efforts

would be enough to make you take the blame.

It's silly, isn't it?

It was close.

It's okay.

Axelle, no! Stop it! Please.

Mom!

Mom!

I won't let you do this, Captain.

Axelle is a sick child.

She's not responsible for her actions.

You're right.

But in the meantime, she's also become a murderous adult.

Couldn't you find a more romantic place to debrief?

I oxygenate myself.

Need to breathe the stench of the world, the real, pure one.

I prefer that to her hypocrisy, especially mine.

You can feel that it ravaged you the convent, after all.

What's that?

It's gone haywire again.

Captain?

Lucie?

Fred?