Gordon: Is everything okay? Jenny: I um...
finally got a letter from Liam.
- That’s it. That’s it. Okay. - It’s okay.
- She still doesn’t like you.
- Give it time. I’m an acquired taste.
- So, your biopsy shows that you have
a solitary spinal plasmacytoma,
a low tumour in the lumbar spine.
You’ll need to start a regular course of radiation,
as soon as possible.
- When I was a kid, my mother died.
And the police came to our house around midnight
and said that there had been an accident.
- But you don’t think that’s what happened.
Clark, what’re you doing at my house?
- We got an anonymous tip about your sister’s death.
The way she fell is suspicious. I have to look into it.
- (Screams)
(Crickets chirp, wind blows and whistles)
(Chimes tinkle)
♪
(Breathing softly)
(Footsteps thud lightly)
(Suspenseful music)
(Footsteps thud)
(Childish giggles) - (Gasps)
(Giggling)
(Door creaks open)
(Childish giggle, door slams)
(Giggle gets louder)
(Suspenseful music)
(Tapping, heavy breathing)
(Childish laugh distorts)
(Overlapping distorted laughter intensifies)
- (Screams and gasps)
Ross: Mom!
(A dog barks outside)
Mom!
- Yeah.
- What’s going on? Are you okay?
- Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just, you know,
I’m just doing my, uh, my therapy homework.
- (Scoffs) You were screaming.
- Yeah, I know, just it’s...
scream your cares away, right?
(Blankets and pillows rustle)
Look, next time, I’ll do it into the pillow.
(Exhales sharply)
I’m gonna be late for work. Move.
Mooooove!
Thank you.
(A dog barks outside)
- (Sighs heavily)
♪
- All right, thank you.
- Hey! - Hey.
- So, what have we got? - Derek Grant, contractor.
Found him still in his bed, if you can call it that.
- Shall we? - Yeah.
(Footsteps approach)
♪
(Whispers her mantra)
Okay.
Ungh! (Exhales sharply)
Well, no signs of trauma. (Sighs)
Or bruising.
But Derek does have a... pretty bad sunburn.
- Well, given the tar on his hands,
probably got it working on the roof.
- Yeah. Well, there’s blue under his fingernails.
Could be hypoxia.
- Heart attack? - I mean, he’s a little young.
We’ll know more after the autopsy.
(Siren wails in distance)
- (Sighs)
Hmm.
- Well, there’s no obvious signs of foul play.
We might be good on this one.
(Blind snaps open)
- I wouldn’t be so sure about that.
(Music intensifies)
♪
Donovan: Do you have a key to the house?
- Yeah, sometimes Derek had me come in when he wasn’t around,
do mouldings, stuff like that.
- You show up for work what, around 9:00?
- I was gonna start the wiring today,
but at first, I thought Derek was just sleeping in.
Sometimes he liked to tie one on, you know.
But then, when I touched him...
(Leaf blower buzzes in distance)
- What can you tell us about Derek?
- He had a habit of making promises he couldn’t keep.
Debts, you know.
This job, I’ve never seen him so stressed.
- Do you know why this one, specifically?
- Well, his wife, Shelley, she hated the place.
They fought about it all the time,
and then, she moved out.
- You have a number for Shelley?
- Yeah.
(Leaf blower buzzes)
- Hey! Sir! Sir! Excuse me! Hi! - Oh!
(Motor stops) - Sorry.
Uh, it’s, uh, tragic, huh? You know, young guy like that.
- Yeah, did you, uh, did you know Derek Grant?
- No, not, not really.
I’m a handyman, you know, odd jobs, stuff like that.
I used to take care of the yard
for the old lady that used to live here,
and I said I’d keep it up for Derek until he sold the house.
It’s a shame. You know, you’d think people
would learn by now. - Learn what?
- Well, that house? It’s-it’s haunted.
Everybody knows that.
(Suspenseful music)
♪
(Leaf blower starts up)
- Any history of cardiac disease? Breathing trouble?
- No, he was in perfect health, according to his GP.
I mean, he did live in a haunted house, so...
you know.
- You’re not serious. - You know what, I’m just...
keeping an open mind.
- My mother believed in spirits.
Used to see them all the time. She relied on them.
They guided her.
(Indistinct chatter)
- Whoa!
(Clipboard thumps)
- Ooh! Cherry red discolouration.
- Well, let’s make sure.
(Ribs snap)
(Ribcage cracks) - Ungh!
Oof! That is red.
Looks like carbon monoxide poisoning.
There isn’t even a working furnace in that house.
How did he die of CO poisoning?
(Phone chimes)
- We have a rule, River!
- I know, phones on silent only.
I’ll turn it off. (Gloves snap)
Sorry, I... I have to go.
♪
(Effort grunts)
Both: (Laughing) - Ah! You’ve been training!
- Or you’re gettin’ slow, man! (Chuckles)
- Gimme one more run, man. Gimme one more--
- Yo, yo, yo. Hey, you okay? Yo.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’m good, man, just--
- You sure? You’re unsteady, man.
- Did I mumble? I-I’m fine!
(Stammering) It’s all good, it’s all good, man.
I got-I got a protein bar here, and I--
(Stammering)
You know what? Just go back to the office, man, I’m good.
- All right. - I’m good. I’ll catch you.
I’ll catch you. - All right.
See you at the office, man. - Yeah.
- (Nonsensical baby talk)
- Aw, did you see? It’s a panda!
Okay, go on, say it. Who is that?
- (Babbling)
- Oh! Did you hear it? She said mama!
- Yeah, you can see in her eyes she has a lot to say!
- Alison--
- Look who it is. Say hi. - Hi, River.
- Hi, Sabina.
- Uh, I-I’ll call you back, hon.
- Okay. - Squeeze her tight for me.
- I have a friend who works for Indigenous Liberty,
the legal aid society.
- Yeah, we hear from them all the time.
- Yeah. Well, she was looking into a few cold cases
for oversights in the system.
Well, look.
♪
- (Gasps)
Oh...
Uh...
- Uh, okay, Shelley, I’ll meet you at the house.
I’m about, uh, 20, 20 minutes away.
Okay. Okay, thanks. (Phone clicks)
(Rapid knocking) Hey.
(Door clunks shut)
You okay? - They found him.
- They found who?
- (Gasping) - Alison.
- I think I know who killed my mother.
- Okay. Hey, what do you need?
- I need some time off.
- Yeah, of course.
Of course, but how can I help? How can, like-
- (Inhales sharply) Um, I, uh...
I need to face this myself.
- Alison?
If you need anything at all,
you know that I’m here for you, right?
- I know.
Thank you.
(Door clicks open, blinds rattle)
(Door creaks shut)
- (Sighs heavily)
(Horns honk outside)
(Footsteps thud)
(Kids shout in the distance)
(Low mechanical groan)
Hello?!
(Low winding scrapes)
(Footsteps scuff)
Shelley?
(Low winding scrapes)
Hello?!
(Loud crash, child giggles)
(Rapping on door)
(Door creaks open and shut)
Shelley.
- Derek was gonna build us a dream home.
Just had to flip this place first.
(Floorboards creak upstairs)
- How, uh, how long were you two married?
- Common law.
We were gonna spend the profits from this on a wedding.
- And when did you move out?
- I’d had enough.
I moved in with my mom, two weeks ago.
I begged him to leave,
but he wouldn’t listen.
This old house, it’s different than the others.
Always some disaster.
This house took everything from me.
(Floorboards creak)
- You talk about this house like it’s alive.
(Floorboards creak)
What?
- The wallpaper.
- Uh, what about it?
- It’s underneath it.
Derek thought he could just cover it up.
Like I could forget it was there.
I don’t know what killed Derek, but...
it wasn’t an accident.
(Creaking)
(Paper rips)
(Ripping intensifies)
♪
- (Exhales)
Oh, my God.
- Maybe you could, uh,
see about getting some sleeping pills.
- No, Dad, that would interfere with your other medication.
- I didn’t mean for me.
I heard you last night on that couch. You were tossing
and turning something terrible. - (Pills clatter) Sh...
- Are you having the bad dreams again?
- No, I’m-I’m good. - Are you sure?
’Cause you seem a little bit,
I don’t know what’s the word, jittery?
- Oh, come on, Jenny. Okay, there we go.
Um, see? That’s why I, uh, I quit coffee.
Okay. Um...
You ready for this?
- Well, I’m not thrilled to talk
to a Crown Attorney at any time,
but you know, if you think it’s a good idea we do it,
then we do it.
- Yeah, yeah. I mean, Clark, he uh...
he’s got a reputation for being fair.
I’ve worked with him and uh...
you know, I think it’s better that we, we face this,
rather than hide. (Loud knock)
(Exhales) Okay.
- You say you found Katie at the bottom of the stairs.
- Yeah.
- Because the pictures from the scene--
- Oh, hey, you can’t show him those.
- Of course not, but...
they show Katie several feet from the stairs,
almost like she fell over the railing.
- Well, the paramedics could’ve moved her
when they were trying to resuscitate her.
- I’m... I’m asking him. - Ask me. Um, well, she fell.
That’s, I mean, that’s what happened.
- Okay, but from the top step, or over the railing?
- I don’t understand what you’re really asking me?
Are you saying, was I there when she fell or...?
- Gordon, I’m asking you if she fell from the top step
or over the railing? That’s what I’m asking you.
It is a simple question, Gordon.
Top step, or over the railing? Which one?
- Okay, hey, let’s just, let’s take a minute.
Let’s just take a break for a second, okay?
- Let’s just finish my questions.
- Well, he was asked all of these questions 30 years ago
by the police. - And he will be, again,
unless you let me finish talking to him.
- Are you accusing him of something?
- (Loud bang) Okay, that’s enough!
How dare you march into this house
and dredge up the past like this?
I lost my little girl! She lost her sister!
Do you understand that?
And you come in here and you start picking over the bones
like some... damn vulture.
- Okay.
I’ve got everything I need.
(Files rustle)
I’ll see myself out.
Thank you.
(Footsteps recede, door squeaks open)
(Door thumps shut) - You okay, Dad?
- I’m sorry I yelled.
- No, no, it’s okay.
You did everything right.
(Phone buzzes and chimes) It’s just uh...
Ugh! Sorry. Just give me a second.
- I did everything right.
- What?
(Car rumbles and honks nearby)
- Okay... This a bad time?
- No, it’s fine. What is it?
- Well, figured whoever wrote "Die Nora Die"
must be connected to our haunted house,
so I did some digging. - Okay, let me guess,
what, it’s... built on a cemetery by a cult of Satanists?
- (Laughs) That would be awesomely cool.
- Nothing that juicy, I’m afraid.
Place was built by a guy named Paul Sullivan.
Bequeathed to his daughter, Astrid, after he died.
- Boomers, am I right?
I’ll never own a home; I’ll just...
die in my one-bedroom apartment.
- Astrid lived there her whole life, raised a family,
but couldn’t make the payments.
Bank foreclosed after she passed.
There’s been four owners since.
Guess who sold the house to Derek.
- Die Nora Die. - She’s still alive?
- That’s right, Liam. Breathe with her.
(Horse exhales sharply)
No. Slow and steady.
Just let it happen.
- (Whispers) Let it happen.
- Good. - Let it happen.
- Good.
(Horse snorts abruptly)
Look, I can’t.
Enough. I don’t know why I’m doing this.
I mean, I mean I don’t know why this is so hard, but...
(Hands clap on legs)
- Does anyone have anything to offer to Liam?
- Maybe don’t worry so much.
- Okay, cool. That’s not really a tip.
- Liam, what did you expect to happen today?
- (Sighs)
Well, you said a horse is a mirror.
She sees me. So, if I’m okay, she’s okay, right?
- Yes. - Well, I’m fine.
- Fine isn’t a feeling. - Yeah, I know.
Angry is a feeling. Frustrated is a feeling.
But I’ve been through a lot, right, and, and...
here, I’m calm.
No triggers, no danger,
except a horse kicking you in the head.
- Liam, you don’t need to be funny. Just be yourself.
- Well, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time,
but still, I can’t connect with her.
- And how do you feel now?
- I’m supposed to leave here in two weeks.
I’m... I’m just worried that I’m not ready yet.
(Sucks teeth) Yeah.
(Dirt crunches)
Neil: Jenny, let’s start with you today. Ready?
- Yeah, sure. (Clears throat)
- Be here.
Hit the pillows with what’s on your mind.
- Okay.
(Tense sigh)
Be here now. All right, I...
(Sniffs)
I’m thinking that-- - Uh, uh. Feel.
What’re you feeling, Jenny?
- What am I feeling? What am I feeling?
What am I feeling? (Sighs)
(Blows out her breath)
I’m feeling angry. (Hard thud)
- Good! Angry’s hard for you.
- I’m feeling angry that my past is back. (Hard thud)
- Go there.
- That, no matter what I do, (Hard thuds)
it just keeps coming back.
(Dog barks)
I forgave myself. I moved on!
It just keeps coming back! (Repeated thuds)
It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!
I just wanted my Legos back!
(Jenny gasps, bat clatters on the floor)
(Breathing heavily, she sobs)
- Jenny. - (Sobs)
- What’s your truth right now?
- Oh God, my whole body’s just buzzing.
(Sobs) - Let it out. Own your truth.
What’s the worst that could happen?
- (Sobs) Someone could die.
- I know your anger scares you, Jenny,
but you can use it to heal.
- Yeah, and how? How do I do that?
- The place where you stop
is where you need to push through.
- (Shaky breaths)
(Door beeps and clicks open)
- Thank you.
(Door clunks shut)
(Briefcase thumps on table)
(Recorder thunks lightly)
(Rustling)
(Door buzzes and clicks open)
(Low, indistinct chatter)
(Door bangs shut, handcuffs jingle lightly)
- You need anything, I’m right outside, okay?
- Thank you.
(Footsteps recede, door buzzes open and shut)
Uh, Cliff Malvern, I’m Alison from "Slaughter into Wine."
- Yeah, the podcast.
You said in your email.
Look, is talking to you gonna help my case, or what?
- You were convicted on all four counts of murder.
You confessed to all four.
I want to hear your story, Mr. Malvern. I...
The listeners are interested in...
your side of things.
- So, which one you wanna hear about?
Marcy? Rachel?
Deborah? Vicky?
(Picture rustles)
- Michelle.
(Ominous music)
(Indistinct chatter, door clunks shut)
- Look, that woman is not okay.
She’s about to jump right out of her skin.
- Yeah, well, she was okay before she moved
into the haunted house.
- I’ve lived in some sketchy places in my time.
You can’t blame all that on a house.
(Phone rings in the distance)
I mean, what could be so terrifying on a video,
that she can’t ever watch it again?
(Heavy breathing)
(Floorboards creak)
(Floorboards groan)
(Heavy exhale)
- Okay, look, I mean the fact that,
that she just woke up one morning
and this video was on her phone, if that happened to me,
I would never go back into that house again.
- But someone wrote that threat.
- Someone, or some thing.
Look, I still don’t have an explanation
for the carbon monoxide, so-- - Well, that’s your department.
All I know is I can’t charge a house for murder.
They don’t even make handcuffs that size.
- Okay. (Sighs)
What about contact tracing?
- Tracking the movement of infected people?
- Mm-hmm.
What if we could do that for a house?
(Handcuffs rattle)
- Marcy, she was a...
a good-looking woman. - I asked about Michelle.
- Told ya, I never heard of her.
- March 15, 1995, you were in Hamilton.
- If you say so.
- At your trial, the Crown connected the murders
to your delivery routes - Calgary, Toronto,
Regina, Thunder Bay, Kamloops.
- You know...
you don’t seem like the type for this sorta work.
- All of your victims lived near,
or worked at, truck stops.
Michelle lived within walking distance to a truck stop,
and there’s a... a gap in your timeline.
March ’95, this didn’t come out in the trial.
A friend of mine told me that you were in Hamilton
the night of the 15th.
(Inhales slowly)
Do you remember that night?
(Rain patters)
It was raining.
(Siren wails in the distance)
(Rain patters, thunder rumbles)
(Pencil rasp)
(Speaking Anishinaabemowin)
- I think my teacher will be mad at me again.
I’m making fun of John A. MacDonald this time.
- (Chuckles softly) Alison, show respect.
You know how they love their old men.
- Even the dead ones? - Especially the dead ones.
(Pencil scratches)
(Rain pelts heavily, thunder rumbles)
- Ow! - You’ve got knots again!
You need to wash it tonight. - But I have to finish this.
(Cereal dregs rattle in the box)
Mom, we’re out of Poppin’ Puffs.
- I’ll get some tomorrow morning. It’s raining.
- Please? I need the marshmallows for extra energy.
- I’m reading that essay before you hand it in.
But I’ll be back in five minutes.
(Thunder rumbles, rain pelts the window)
- This is your chance to tell your story, Cliff.
- Come off it.
You’re no podcaster.
- This was a mistake. (Binder thumps shut)
(Items rustle)
(Raps on door, door beeps open)
I shouldn’t have come.
- You’re very brave to face that man.
- What was I thinking?
That he would just confess to killing my mother
because he happened to be in the same city
the night she died? Just...
- You had to try.
(Rain patters outside)
- I just, I’ve...
I’ve lived so long not knowing what happened.
And now I’m so close...
I don’t know if I wanna find out.
But I also don’t wanna leave before I...
know her story.
(Rain patters)
(Sighs)
- I know a good story.
It’s about a beautiful
and loving woman,
an amazing mother,
and a heartbreakingly wonderful partner,
whose mother would’ve been so proud of her.
Her name’s Alison,
and I love her.
(Rain patters)
- I have to go back.
I can’t... lie.
(Sniffles)
I want him to know who I am.
- We captured the randomized cell phone data
from Derek’s neighbourhood, the night he died.
This is every cell phone in the neighbourhood.
(Phone rings in the distance) - Are those uh...?
- The two phones that were in Derek’s house
the night he died. - Yeah.
- Yeah. One is Derek’s.
- And the other?
- We don’t know.
It goes inside the house and...
disappears. Every night.
Including last night. - Yep, so whoever it is,
they’re still spending their nights at Casa del Spooky.
(Chuckles then stops)
(Car door clicks open, Jenny grunts)
- (Laughs) (Repeated thumping)
- Back one’s locked.
- It’s a cop car, Jenny.
- Right. (Clears throat)
(Door slams shut, locks click)
Do you think they’ll show up?
- Only one way to find out.
(Door clicks and squeaks open)
I’ve hung out in worse places.
- Worse than a house that wants everyone dead?
(Door creaks and slams shut)
(Door clicks open)
(Door clicks shut)
- Why did you agree to see me again?
- Michelle...
was your mother.
Don’t you wanna sit? - I’m fine.
- Okay.
Maybe...
I was in Hamilton in ’95.
- I just want the truth. - So, tell me.
- What? - Tell me...
what happened to your mother,
and if I like what I hear, I’ll...
(Mouthing silently) ...confess.
- It was raining.
She went to the truck stop.
To their grocery store, to buy some cereal, and...
- And?
- (Inhales shakily)
(Exhales confidently)
And you wanna know what happened?
(Smirks)
My mother watched me grow up.
She saw me graduate.
When I brought home my first girlfriend,
she was happy for me.
She was beside me for the birth of my child.
She is with me here, right now.
And you...
you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
- Wait.
Thought you wanted my story.
- You can keep your story for yourself.
I’ve got my own.
(Raps on door, door beeps and clicks open)
(Door clunks shut)
- I had a dream last night that my house was haunting me.
- (Chuckles) I’d like to think if I was dead,
I’d have better things to do.
- Yeah. I mean, I don’t believe in ghosts.
That’s a rabbit hole I can’t go down.
- Yeah, I’m a detective. I want an explanation.
Is there something on the other side to...
make sense of all this craziness.
- So, ghosts?
- No, I--
But in Jamaica, we have what they call "duppies."
- Duppies.
- Hmm. Duppies are malevolent spirits
said to come out at night.
- Okay, that sounds apropos.
- I mean, story has it that
duppies are the manifestation of the soul of the dead -
haunting and plaguing the living.
They suck all the joy and happiness out-
outta the ones they haunt, like a disease.
(The house creaks and groans)
- I mean, maybe that’s what’s haunting this house?
- Yeah, or worse. It could be obeah,
or a voodoo curse.
- Are you serious?
- Yeah.
Duppy season’s not ’til November.
- Oh, my God! You’re such an... - (Laughing)
- ass! Ugh...
- Although lately it feels like one’s been hanging around.
(Blind snaps open) - What?!
Oh, my God!
(Loud crash, Jenny gasps)
That sounded like it came from downstairs.
- How could anyone have gotten past us?
- This is so dumb.
This is so dumb!
(Footsteps thud)
(Suspenseful music)
♪
(Whispers) Leave.
(Gasps) - Hey!
- Oh, shoot! - You okay?
- Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.
I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I don’t believe in ghosts.
I don’t believe in-- - There’s no one down here.
(Door creaks and slams shut)
He doubled back on us!
(Footsteps thud hurriedly) Wait here!
(Rattling doorknob) Ugh!
Son of a-- (Door thumps)
(Grunting) We’re locked in!
- Whoa.
- Hey, Malik! We’re inside the house.
- Do you feel that? - Hey, yeah, no,
send, send a car! Over.
- Ugh... - What the hey?
(Phone thuds heavily) Dammit.
- It’s carbon monoxide. - What the...?
- If we can feel it now, we’ve only got a few minutes.
You gotta keep your heart rate down. Come here.
There’s more oxygen down low. Come here.
Control your breathing. - (Coughs)
- Control your breathing. - (Blows out his breath)
- Did you see any windows? - No.
We gotta get outta here, Jenny.
- Yeah, we just have to find the source.
- All right, I’ll check these tarps. Ugh!
- I’m gonna check this wall. (Muffled breaths)
(Tarp crinkles loudly)
♪
- No. - Donovan?!
- Yeah? - Come here.
- Okay. - Come here!
Help me move this! (Coughing)
- Ready? - (Grunting and coughing)
- One, two, three!
(Shelf and its contents crash loudly)
(Laboured breathing, drop cloth rustles)
- Holy! - You’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ll go first.
- (Breathing heavily)
(Clears throat)
(Motor rumbles)
(Clears throat)
(Motor rumbles loudly)
(Motor cuts out)
- Wha... - Ugh...
Keep going.
(Coughing)
Keep going.
- (Grunts)
(Cover scrapes and clangs)
- The leaf blower guy?
- ’Kay, I-I don’t get it. So, you built a bunker
just to keep people out of a house.
- My house.
My grandfather built this house.
And my mom was supposed to leave it to me,
until the bank took it away.
- Astrid Sullivan was your mother.
- So, you became the handyman.
- I took care of the place,
and I saved everything I had to try and buy it back,
but the price just kept going up, and up, and up,
and they make it impossible for people like me!
- Yeah, but that doesn’t give you the right to kill.
- Derek...
he was literally ripping the guts outta my home!
This house was all I had.
It was my house.
(Phone rings nearby, footsteps approach)
(Pen scratches) - Hey.
- Hey. Uh, you got a minute?
- Yeah.
(Footsteps recede)
You’re resigning.
- Deep down, I think I always knew
what happened to my mother,
and this job...
was about seeking justice for people like her.
But it’s all different now.
I feel like the living...
need my help more.
- What’re you gonna do now?
- I’m going to work for Indigenous Liberty.
They need someone with experience
in restorative justice.
- Yeah, no, that um...
That makes, that makes total sense. I think...
I think you’re doing the right thing.
- Thanks.
- (Sighs)
What am I gonna do without you?
- You’ll manage.
You have a team that trusts you.
(Sniffles)
You just need to start trusting yourself more.
You can do it, Jenny Cooper.
- I can do it, Jenny Cooper. - (Chuckles)
Come here.
Ugh...
I love you, Alison.
I mean, I hate that you’re leaving.
Both: (Laughing)
I love you.
- I love you, too.
But before I go...
- (Blows out her breath)
(Basket thumps lightly) Did you...?
- Ta-da!
- (Chuckles) - Mixed berry.
Your favourite. - My favourite.
(Plates clatter)
Oh, you’re amazing, Alison.
- I know. - (Laughs)
Thank you.
(Pie lifter rattles)
If you ever need anything...
if you ever wanna come back...
- I know.
(Forks clink)
(Forks clank, Jenny sniffles)
- I’m gonna get tears in my pie. (Laughs)
- Mmm. - Ugh...
Oh, my God, it’s so good.
- I know! - (Laughs)
Both: (Sniffling)
(Traffic rumbles, horns honk)
(Approaching footsteps)
- Hey. - Hey.
- Thanks for coming. - Yeah.
You called, I’m here.
Your move.
- Right. Yeah.
I um...
I wanted to set the record straight
on what happened to my sister.
- Great.
♪
- You know, I think it’s better if I talk directly to your Dad.
- No, j-- look, um...
(Traffic rumbles)
(Jenny inhales slowly)
the truth is...
(Traffic rumbles, kid shouts)
the truth is that...
um... (Short, sharp inhales)
(Exhales) that...
(Exhales) come on.
I just, I need a sec-- I need, I need one second and--
(Short, sharp breaths, leaves rustle)
(Gasping, panicked breaths) No, Jenny. No. No, Jenny.
(Gasping, panicked breaths)
- Bite.
- (Gasping breaths)
- Jenny, here. Bite. Bite. Bite the apple.
(Loud crunch)
Scientific fact: you can’t have a panic attack
and eat an apple at the same time.
(Breathing slows)
- Okay. Okay.
Jenny, when I lay murder charges,
there’s only two things that matter.
Okay, will I get a conviction,
and does it serve the public interest?
Did he kill your sister?
- No.
- Okay.
- (Shaky breaths)
- That’s it?
- That’s it.
(Traffic rumbles, indistinct chatter nearby)
(Phone chimes and buzzes)
(Traffic rumbles, horn honks, indistinct chatter)
(Texting taps)
(Sent message dings)
(Response dings)
♪