Original subtitles

Hello, Jean-Pierre.

Herve Laroche, Quebec Police.

Your lawyer called.

You have something to say?

What can I do for you?

You can talk to me.

This is a tough one.

What?

It's a big weight to unload.

If you want, we can forget it. - No.

Don't go.

It's been on my mind a while.

It happened in a park in Cote-des-Neiges.

At a baseball field.

I was alone. I had a bag full of baseballs.

I was hitting them into the net. One by one.

It was a metal net.

The sound when I hit the balls must've attracted him.

He was sitting alone in the bleachers watching me.

When I'd hit all the balls, I started picking them up.

One by one.

That's when I sensed him there.

He helped me pick them up.

I asked him to play, he said he didn't know how.

I said I'd teach him.

He nodded yes.

We started playing, but he wasrt very good at baseball.

I took my time, showed him how to pitch.

Did you play long?

Eventually the kid got bored.

He stopped trying to even catch the balls.

He watched them go by.

I went over to him.

He was crying.

I asked why he was crying.

He said he'd lost his key.

The key to his bicycle lock.

I checked his bike.

I tried to force the lock, but nothing doing.

The kid was real upset.

I felt it.

How did you know?

I dunno.

I feel it.

I couldn't help him.

I didn't say a word.

I went back to picking up my balls.

I knew he was watching me.

I pretended not to see him and went to my car.

When I was inside,

I lowered the window.

I looked at him.

He was looking at me too.

I threw him a ball.

It landed at his feet.

We eyed each other.

He wasrt sure what to do. Me neither.

But I asked him if he wanted a lift home.

The kid got into my car.

If he hadrt got in,

I'd have let him leave.

When was this?

Ten years ago. I've never talked about it.

To anybody.

How old did you say he was?

Eight.

His name was Hugo.

Come get me.

She's cute.

She's beautiful. - Thanks, Irene.

I'm 40.

Time does not heal.

I was asked if I had dependent children.

For taxes.

I had to say no.

I should've said yes.

I never talk about him unless I'm asked.

I don't talk about him. That's the way it is.

But he's inside me.

When I talk about him, people are uneasy. Even now.

Time does not heal.

The more the years go by, the more it's there inside me.

It's not something I wanted.

You don't realize.

I want it to go away.

But each day the dark hole in me deepens.

Life does that.

A sound,

a voice,

a smell,

a word...

It comes back.

I have no control.

I'd like to talk about him all the time. But I can't.

Grief frightens people. They avoid you like the plague.

Or play dumb.

Like nothing happened.

And that... is also unbearable.

I eat two meals a day.

I'm an adult, I can get by. But not the kids.

Breakfast and dinner aren't enough.

It's not enough.

Mom

Irene, it's your mother. - Hi.

Did I wake you?

Can I come see you tomorrow?

What's up?

Christophe, are you OK?

Yeah.

Yeah, it's nothing.

Like something to drink?

I have a bit of juice left.

No, thanks. I'm not thirsty.

How's the choir?

Fine. We're about to record. Later today.

What?

Medieval polyphony.

Motets.

Lovely.

Singing's good for you.

I rarely mention it, maybe I should...

But the fact you never gave up your career is...

I don't know how to say it.

Reassuring?

Yes, right.

I'm not a little girl, Mom.

You'll always be my little girl.

I gave you your first music theory lessons.

It would've been hard if you'd left like him.

I thank God every day you didn't.

I sometimes think of Christophe, in Mexico.

You got over him.

Mom, stop. - It's true.

You at least moved on.

Naturally.

You were so young. - I'll never move on.

Did you after Dad died?

You're early this month.

This is why you came, right?

I have to go.

Thank you for the check.

You think.

You think you're alone.

You think of a name.

You're surprised.

It's the first that comes to mind.

You think it's a dream.

A dream.

Just a dream.

But something's different.

What do you think, Irene? It's in 4/3 time.

Irene?

You have to leave. - What?

Come with me. - Why?

It's serious. It's your son.

You think.

You think you're alone.

You think of a name.

You're surprised.

It's the first that comes to mind.

You think it's a dream.

A dream, just a dream.

But something's different.

Yes?

Christophe?

It's Irene.

They found Hugo.

They found Hugo buried in an empty lot.

Christophe?

They're wrong.

They tested the DNA.

Who did it?

A man in prison.

He confessed.

Confessed what? - I can't tell you like this.

A pedophile. He's serving a 15-year-sentence.

You have to come back to Montreal.

I want you here. I can't face this alone.

What'll you do?

I'll come. As quickly as I can.

Call me at this number when you arrive.

We spoke to Antonin Perron, your sors friend.

He played with Hugo in the park.

Then Antonin went home.

He knows he has to come home. - Why?

He gets tutoring in math after school.

Does your son have any other friends?

He's the only one we really know.

Has he ever run away?

No, never.

We found these things under the park bleachers.

Does Hugo play baseball?

He's not very athletic.

He doesn't eat much. - He never has.

Did you notice anything different in his behavior?

Stress?

Anxiety?

Insomnia?

Was there a fight?

Do you have a photo of him? - At home. I can send it to you.

I'll take a description.

What's his height?

Four feet.

Weight?

60, 70 lbs.

Hair?

Brown, almost black.

Eyes?

Brown.

It's Dad.

Are you OK? - Yes.

Are you mad at me?

Are you in pain?

Will I speak to you again? - Yes.

The morning Hugo left for school...

It was a normal day.

He sat in his t-shirt, tying his laces.

After, I just slumped on my chair.

Hugo had the strength to die.

I was so much weaker.

Christophe arrives tomorrow.

Well, today, given the time now.

He asked the name of the man who killed Hugo.

I didn't tell him.

I'm scared he's coming only to resume his manunt.

Not because of Hugo.

But maybe he's changed in 10 years.

We were in our early 30s.

We sensed that Hugo was dead.

Now we know he was murdered.

You don't pack much.

Enough.

A short visit?

Seven days.

Sit down, you must be tired.

Sit.

Sit down.

How do you spend your days there?

Odd jobs.

I don't know how to say this. - Dad...

You don't have to talk.

All these years.

A long time.

You've changed.

Are you angry with me?

How can you ask that?

I was angry that you left, but I've had time to think.

I understand you.

Do you blame me for Hugo? - No.

Never.

Gabrielle, it's Marc.

Hello, Marc.

I wanted to call yesterday, but...

Can I talk to her?

Irene's still asleep.

She needs to rest.

I understand.

They talked about Hugo on the news.

They don't waste any time.

Reporters keep calling. We tell them it's none of their business.

Will she be able to get over this?

Yes, she'll get through it. She's built solid.

I'll tell her you called.

Thanks.

Are you thirsty?

Why did you say that?

What?

That I'm built solid.

You want me to blot out Hugo like you did Dad.

You want it all to disappear.

Why didn't you cry when Dad killed himself?

To protect you.

You protected me from nothing.

You failed.

His bankruptcy, the debts he left us. Wow, great!

Some protection!

Don't talk like that about your dad. He loved you.

So what?

I'm talking about you.

10 years is enough grieving.

Grieving...

I hate that word.

Irene, your father, and what's happening with Hugo...

It's a way of coming to God.

I do my best, Irene.

What?

I do my best.

Yes?

It's me.

I'm here. I'm at my dad's.

That's all there was? - That's all.

Do you have a...

...a report or something?

Yes.

Hugo Ducharme-Collirs remains were discovered on December 4.

DNA analysis indicates death occurred 10 years ago.

The body was buried...

Irene!

A rapid intervention seems increasingly likely.

Barack Obama has spent the day on the phone consulting with his counterparts.

It is unlikely that the UN will sanction an attack on the Syrian regime.

Russia and China, staunch allies of Bashar al-Assad,

are sure to veto such a move.

Have you found someone new?

Not really. - Not really?

You?

Nothing.

Nothing, in all that time?

I wish someone would tell me Hugo was brave.

You want someone to forgive you?

But you're not guilty.

Don't you feel guilty?

What is it?

That guy in prison...

What about him? - He exists.

You're back for your manunt?

I'm back because you asked me. Because you finally called.

I couldn't talk to you. - In 10 years?

For 10 years I was afraid to see what we saw in that box.

You abandoned us.

But don't worry, I'm not angry.

There was no room for me here.

Nothing's worse than grief you can't share.

I have my experience, you have yours.

Everyone has their own way.

Their own baggage.

I know. - You don't.

I do.

I know my baggage. And yours.

How's your father?

He's good.

He loves you as much as ever?

Yes.

What happened?

Where am I supposed to go?

What happened?

Ajet flew over our fields. It fired two rockets at us.

God is great!

Here, keep the change.

Thanks. - Good night.

Christophe?

Bring two beers from the fridge.

Why don't you stay?

We've been over this.

You'd be better off here.

Dad, stop.

What about Irene?

I wish we hadrt met in the morgue.

Irene?

Irene, it's me.

Irene, open up, now!

You think.

You think you're alone.

You think of a name.

You're surprised.

I'm sorry. - You're surprised.

It's the first that comes to mind.

You think it's a dream.

A dream, just a dream.

Just a dream.

But something's different.

My condolences for what you're going through.

Thank you.

The media have called non-stop.

Asking about the service.

I don't want media there.

If I see one camera, I'll call it off.

Let's begin.

I need some information about the event. Date of death?

I haven't received it.

Can we just put the year?

Of course.

1995-2003.

Burial or cremation? - Cremation.

Do you have a burial plot?

Or a prearrangement?

Where will you keep the ashes?

We haven't thought about it.

We can provide a family burial plot.

I have a range of options.

We came here for our son.

I know what you're going through.

Your world has collapsed.

I suggest you rent a niche in the columbarium.

If one day you want a family tomb, you need only move Hugo's ashes.

We can personalize the service. It's often done, not expensive.

I have several models.

I can offer a package to meet your budget

that includes a reception room,

buffet, flowers...

Where were you? They're here.

Hello.

Detective Herve Laroche.

Hello. If you'll come with me.

I have to inform you there'll be no trial.

Jean-Pierre Blake is dead.

He hung himself in his cell.

He didn't leave a note.

We presume it's linked to your sors murder.

Life inside was rough after his confession.

We'll pursue the investigation,

but there'll be no trial.

Can we see the tape of his confession?

Yes, that's permitted. We can do that later.

It has to be today. I'm returning to Mexico for good.

I need the Crowrs approval.

Is that long?

No, I can get it by phone.

But I have to warn you, it may be hard to watch.

You can go. This is for me.

I have to put it behind me.

I know you... - No, I'll stay.

What did the other prisoners do to him?

How old did you say he was?

Eight.

His name was Hugo.

After...

After that it's a blackout.

What do you mean?

I can't remember the rest.

It's all mixed up.

Go on,

try to remember.

I remember the can'toons.

We're at home.

Everything's shut.

The doors, blinds, curtains,

but the TV's always on.

Can'toons. Just can'toons.

There's food on the floor.

It's a mess.

At first,

I liked looking after him,

helping with schoolwork, cooking for him,

giving him his bath, going to bed.

But then the kid stopped eating.

Didrt want me to teach him, wouldn't play with me.

He just wanted to sleep.

He turned white as a cauliflower. He had trouble breathing.

I didn't like it.

It was becoming ugly.

I didn't want that.

I hate ugliness.

I wanted him to stay beautiful, like the first time.

So...

I smothered him with a pillow.

He died peacefully.

I'd seen death before.

I was an ambulance technician.

What I did is wrong, but that's the way it was.

Jean-Pierre...

You said you played with him. - Yeah.

What did you play?

He looked like a boy on my hockey team.

In LaSalle. I used to coach.

I know.

What games, Jean-Pierre?

What do you think? - I'm not here to think for you.

The game was called...

It was called Reward.

How does it go?

What do you think?

Come on, Jean-Pierre.

I was nice to him.

Know what that means?

Nice how? - Why do you want to know everything?

I don't want to know, I want to understand.

Kissing.

What kind of kissing?

The kissing that men like us enjoy.

What kind of kissing?

He sucked me. I came.

Then I'd give him affection.

His reward.

Christophe!

I imagined him growing up.

He'd be 18 today.

So did I.

It's normal, I think.

For 10 years,

I was the father of an invisible child.

I should've followed you.

I should've gone with you to Mexico.

Or stopped you, I don't know.

We could've kept Hugo alive in us.

I could've loved you.

You could've consoled me.

Without expecting anything in return.

But now it's too late.

Irene.

Close that.

Just one more, OK?

If I'd gone to pick him up... - Irene.

You were a wonderful mother.

Sometimes it's like he existed only in my head.

That's everything. Thanks.

Why won't he stay?

Take me in his arms?

Or love me?

We're going to die.

Each on our own.

Tomorrow's our last day.

They changed the doorway.

I don't know.

I can't remember.

Irene?

She'll be here in 5 minutes.

She's in the dining room.

She doesn't know her son died.

Lucille, you have a visitor.

I'll leave you two.

If you need anything, there's a button by the bed.

Lucille, I'll be back later with your snack.

I have friends.

Here and there.

They're gone.

I don't know.

Friends?

Yes.

Mrs Blake?

Do you know who I am?

Will you see Irene before leaving?

I'm supposed to.

Tomorrow you'll open your eyes in another bed,

in another country.

You could've stayed for Christmas.

Thanks for putting me up.

I'm sorry to keep insisting.

But life flies by.

Christophe...

You can come home whenever you want.

I know.

I miss the sea.

For Irene, it's music.

For me, the ocean. It consoles me a bit.

Making love to her consoled me too.

It shows me there can be more.

It's crazy, I'd like to have a child with her.

But we have a child already.

Excuse me?

Hello.

I'm Antonin.

Antonin Perron.

A friend of Hugo's. Do you remember me?

My God, it's amazing how much you've changed.

Come here.

I just wanted to say hi.

I tried to call,

but the number's no good.

I saw the news in the paper.

I haven't stopped thinking of Hugo...

the last time I saw him.

It's not your fault.

Want to come in and warm up?

No, I don't want to disturb you.

You don't want to come up? - No.

How about a coffee next door?

OK, good.

That'd be cool.

I found this.

Well, I didn't find it.

I kept it all along.

Hugo sent it to me from summer camp.

We were 8, I think.

Hi Antonin!

Are you having a nice summer?

Here we say grace at meals.

It's weird.

Still, camp's fun.

I read the latest Barefoot Gen manga.

I can't wait to read the others.

They're really good.

I'll lend them to you.

Bye.

Thank you.

Christophe?

What?

I...

I wanted to thank you for coming.

I couldn't have done it with anyone else.

What's up? Where were you?

I have to leave.

My plane.