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Shh!

Shh!

Please.

Shh! Please don't cry.

Please, please, please, please.

Shh, shh, please be quiet.

Please be quiet.

Please don't cry!

Please, please!

Please, please!

Shh!

Just don't look at it.

Shh, shh, shh.

Shh!

Shh!

Please!

Please don't look!

Wyatt?

Rachel?

Rachel?

No.

No!

No!

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.

Peels less.

Leaves are triangular.

The double serration is more pronounced.

How did it start?

Don't know.

The caretaker said 11:30.

Maybe there's another door we can try.

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.

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.

Is there a problem?

No.

No problem.

Whoa, you OK?

Let's go settle in at the cottage.

Is there something else?

I was wondering if I could get a, um--

an advance, a-- a deposit.

I can do the full amount.

Check OK?

Check's fine.

We should've brought sleeping bags.

I'm not sleeping under this.

Well, you won't have to.

It won't get that cold.

That pillow smells like cat piss.

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.

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.

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.

And what's that supposed to mean?

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?

Why are you doing this to me?

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

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--

Careful.

You'll fall through.

What are those things?

Lanterns.

Lights.

This must have been some kind of theater.

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.

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.

Wyatt?

Wyatt?

Wyatt?

Wyatt!

What are you doing?

You scared me.

This is how I want to be buried.

Leave me for the birds.

Get up.

I need to get a bigger saw from the truck.

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Oh, God! No!

No!

Wyatt!

Oh, my God.

Oh!

Oh, never do that to me again.

Don't ever do that to me again.

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.

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.

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.

Help, someone!

Help, help, please!

Help!

Please get me--

get me out.

Get me out.

Wyatt?

Ah!

Get me-- get me out!

Hey, hey. Hey, look at me.

You're OK.

You're OK.

Yeah?

Well, you are a cord of firewood and a paycheck now.

Life's a bitch.

run away, come again--

Do you remember the dream you had last night?

Not really?

Is it the same dream?

The raven?

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.

"Nothing killed her."

"It wouldn't have made a difference."

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.

What killed her?

Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel.

Wyatt!

What's all this water?

What happened to the door?

What door?

The garage door.

I have no idea.

I saw something.

There was nothing under the canoe.

I'm not talking about the canoe.

Shit.

Fuck.

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.

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.

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.

Have you been inside Mr. Randolph's house?

What?

I'm asking if you've been inside the house.

No.

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!

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!

Rachel!

Rachel! Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel! Rachel!

Rachel!

Wyatt!

Stay away from me!

Wyatt!

Yeah.

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.

Who's here?

Oh.

Oh, God.

Show yourself, you!

Show yourself!

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!

Wyatt!

Oh, shit.

Get in!

No.

We're leaving.

Come on!

We're going home.

Not yet.

Get in the truck.

Out!

Now!

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Fuck!

Wyatt!

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.

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.

Where are you?

Where are you!

Please!

You can't make me do this!

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.

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.

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.

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.

He called them mangy strays.

No one will miss them, he said.

No one will cry.

- 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.

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?

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt.

Stop!

Stop!

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?

No!

Wha--

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.

Sound the alarms

The animal charms are drifting in the air

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--

Sound the alarm

The animal charms--

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?

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!

Don't you know I think of you?

I remember you.

I remember all of you.

Take me instead, if you must.

There's nothing more I can do for you.

Kill him.

He's not Victor.

Soon.

It will be soon.

Then do it yourself.

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.

Why are my boots wet?

Wyatt?

No.

Stay here.

No!

Wyatt!

Help!

No!

No!

Wyatt!

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.

How easily they were all fooled.

You murdered seven innocent children.

I have atoned for my sin.

Can you account for yours?

Victor.

Get him!

Wyatt!

Wyatt?

Wyatt!

Where is he?

Wyatt!

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.

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

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.

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.

He didn't even see you.

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.

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.

It's not too late, Wyatt.

Unshackle yourself while you still can.

I have missed you, Victor.

Hm.

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt.

Wyatt!

Come on, come on.

Mom, I got it.

Well, hurry then.

You're freezing.

Where are we going?

We're just going.

Wyatt?

Let's go.

I'm practicing.

What?

Practicing!

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.

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?"

Wyatt!

Yes.

Where is my son?

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!

Wyatt?

Help!

Help!

Help me!

Please!

Please, help!

Help!

Help me!

Help, Mom!

Mom!

Somebody help!

Mom!

Mom, please, help me!

Please!

Pull!

As hard as you can!

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!

No!

I picked her up from the crib--

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.

I watched her fall asleep.

It was so peaceful.

The whole house was quiet.

And I was happy.

But then I-- I guess--

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--

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry!

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry!

It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

We're going to be OK now.

Aquilegia canadensis.

Thuja occidentalis.

Canadian Columbine.

Northern white cedar.

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?

Can I throw it now?

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

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