Original subtitles

[♪]

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[Answering machine]: Hello. It's Anne Marie.

When you hear the beep, leave me your bona fides.

[Beep]

Anne Marie, it's Celeste.

I am doing it, girl.

I have taken the position at millburn

and getting out of New York.

I wanted to thank you again for everything you did.

You were a rock.

I can't imagine how I would've got through it all...

Anyway, I will talk to you soon,

but maybe not too soon,

because I think a little time in the country will do me good.

[♪]

Dr. Williamson? It's Dr. Celeste dupont.

I know that we've already been over the patient profiles,

and I really appreciate your Patience with me,

it's just... I worry about Joey and Melissa...

The two p.D.D. Kids.

It's hard to leave them behind, but it's for the best right now.

Please call if anything comes up.

Thanks.

[♪]

[♪]

Hello?

It's Dr. Dupont.

Hello?

Hello, Dr. Dupont!

My name is Jones.

I can drive from here.

Oh, no. That's all right.

I'm afraid it's the rules.

Oh. All right.

That's some weather coming.

Yes. You've arrived during the stormy season.

They blow in from the ocean,

always head for US.

Thank you.

Hello there.

You must be Dr. Dupont.

I'm miss donneymede,

director of staffing and admissions

here at millburn.

It is nice to meet you, miss donneymede.

Pleased to be here.

Well, we're happy to have you.

Dr. Quilley has been waiting for you.

What a beautiful old place.

We call it home.

Now, did you want to...

Go to your room and have a lie-down

or change or...?

I am anxious to meet Dr. Quilley.

Very well, then.

I know the feeling is mutual.

[Knocking at door]

Magnus?

Dr. Dupont.

Dr. Dupont. A great pleasure.

For me too, Dr. Quilley.

Take your coat?

Yes. Thank you.

Found US all right?

We're rather out of the way here.

No trouble at all.

Seat?

You are so beautiful.

I expected somewhat of a...

Of a what?

A plain Jane.

[Laughs]: I don't know what I expected.

You are precisely as I imagined you.

Really?

Your books have been such an inspiration to me.

I've recently lost faith

in my ability to help people.

Let me express my deep condolences

for your recent tragedy.

To lose a fiance... I can't imagine.

How are you coping with it?

Uh, it hasn't been easy...

But I've been throwing myself into my work.

I understand you were getting married this month.

When you mentioned in your letter

that a position was available,

it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Credentials made it an easy choice for US.

I have several guests I'd like you to meet.

I love that you call the patients "guests."

It's more dignified.

They're, uh... of an interesting variety.

Black coffee. Thanks.

[Electricity crackles]

[Sighs]

We're, uh... Rather remote,

and there's a power issue, as you can see...

Thanks for warning me.

You might have noticed,

we're in a corridor

where cell phone reception is poor, at best.

Yes. My GPS and my BlackBerry both went out.

There's a land-line on my desk.

[Door creaks shut] And Internet?

Mm.

My friends won't expect to hear much from me,

but I will need to make an occasional call.

You know our philosophy, of course?

"You are who you think you are."

And the guests take on the jobs and identities they wish.

Here, you can be a philosopher

or a gardener,

a king or a cook,

whatever the guest chooses.

It gives them a... a comfort level,

a sense of direction.

[Ring]

[Sets bell down]

But you care for them?

Of course.

Now... are you ready to commit yourself?

Yes. Completely.

Good.

At dinner, you'll meet some of the staff.

Just sign right there.

You don't have

any, uh... food allergies or anything?

No. Thanks.

Let's go and meet some of the guests.

Isadora, I'd like you to meet

a distinguished colleague of mine,

Dr. Celeste dupont.

Celeste will be with US for a while.

Isadora, it is a pleasure to meet you.

Oh, a pleasure to meet you, doctor.

Isadora is america's poet laureate.

Translated into dozens of languages.

She is currently preparing a reading

here at millburn.

I love the smaller venues,

so much more intimate,

where one can really connect

with one's audience.

Well, poetry is a wonderful gift, Isadora...

To translate the complex human emotions

through the simple tools of words...

How beautifully put, doctor.

The "simple tools of words."

I hope you won't mind if I steal that?

[Others chuckling]

Not at all.

I find millburn such a fertile place to write.

Here, well, one finds...

Perspective.

A sanctuary.

Exactly!

Well, I look forward to our future conversations.

Oh, as do I. As do I.

Celeste,

let me present congressman Lionel Roberts.

He's the president's personal advisor

on foreign affairs.

Well, hello, congressman.

And how are things in Washington?

Oh, you know, it's always two steps forward, one back.

The responsibility is huge.

Oh, I can't imagine the stress,

but I guess someone has to do it.

Yes. Yes, that's it exactly.

Someone has to do it.

Well, we are in good hands.

This young man is, uh, Herbert willowby.

He's, uh, a fine actor and dancer.

Hello, Herbert. It's nice to meet you.

Pleased to meet you.

Will you excuse US?

So... Shirley temple?

That's my stage name.

Oh, I love the little Princess.

That's my favorite!

And we think that your father's dead in the war,

and you're a servant in the orphanage,

and then he comes back...

Oh, yes!

And queen Victoria. I loved her.

She was just like the real one.

Oh, my god, wasn't she?

Oh, I look forward to movie night.

Hi. I'm the one

you've been wanting to meet.

I'm Bobby gow.

Well, hi, Bobby. And how are you doing?

I'm good.

You have gorgeous hands.

So soft skin.

And I'll bet your panties

are black silk.

French. Am I right?

I am right, aren't I?

Cut nice and low... With a little bow,

about four inches below your belly-button,

right where it starts to get very interesting.

You haven't really had a lot of luck with women,

have you, Bobby?

Um...

[Quilley]: Are you behaving yourself, Bobby?

Yes, sir.

Let's get you settled in before dinner.

We painted your room a few days ago,

but the fumes should be gone by now.

I keep meaning to number these...

So many of them.

It's on my to-do list.

Ah, this is the right one.

[Keys jangling]

Here we are.

Oh, it's so nice.

Here... are your meal times

and laundry schedule and Dr. Quilley's rounds.

Great.

[Thunder rumbles]

You've come in the stormy season.

They blow in from the sea.

So I've heard.

Oh, do not forget your keys.

[Sighs]: I'd forget my head.

You know about our electricity challenges,

so keep this handy.

And... another thing,

we have a guest residing down and across the hall,

in the lock-up.

Evan Franklin.

Dr. Quilley will tell you more about him.

[Sighs]

He witnessed the murder of his entire family.

He's violently aggressive, quite hopelessly insane.

Even Dr. Quilley's all but given up on him.

Occasionally, on stormy nights, Evan...

Carries on a bit.

But don't worry. His door is quite secure.

Um, so is this part of Dr. Quilley's technique?

Keeping the guests and the doctors

in the same wing?

I don't remember reading about that.

No, there are no doctors in this wing.

Well, then, why am I here?

You're a guest, my dear.

No. I am a doctor.

I know you're a doctor, pet...

But you're also a guest.

Is this your idea of some sort of a joke?

I'm afraid not.

Dr. Quilley. Miss donneymede

seems to think that I'm a patient here.

A guest.

Yes, no, I know what you call them,

but could you please clear this up?

I would like a room with the other doctors.

Why don't we find some time in the morning

to talk about this?

No, I would like

to clear this up now.

Plenty of time to sort it out.

But what is to sort out?

I just want a proper room.

Celeste, you're a guest.

No. I'm a doctor.

I came here to work with you.

Yes.

Of course.

And I'm sure you'll find the work fulfilling...

But you can't leave.

I would like my car, please.

Now.

I'm afraid we can't have our guests

driving around all over the countryside.

I am calling the pol...

[♪]

What is going on here?

I know this may be... Hard to comprehend, but...

You are committed.

And you'll stay with US until you're well.

This is crazy.

I am leaving.

[Jones]: Dr. Dupont?

Dr. Dupont!

Dr. Dupont!

Dr. Dupont!

Please, stop!

Stop! Do not touch the fence! Doctor!

Stop! Don't!

[Grunting]

[Zapping, she screams]

[Celeste breathing rapidly]

[Clock ticking, chiming]

[Distorted, crying out]: I am a doctor!

I am a doctor!

[Clock ticking, sounds distorting]

[Bell ringing]

Celeste?

Celeste?

Dr. Quilley?

Hello, doctor.

You slept all night and all day.

[Grunts]

Why would you put me in a cage?

In a cage?

A steel cage.

I heard you ringing your bell, and...

I heard voices... And chimes...

You've been through a lot.

Don't patronize me.

This is all a huge mistake.

I-I want to call my lawyer, and he will vouch for my sanity.

Celeste...

Listen to me.

There is no cage.

And no bells, no voices.

You've had a traumatic experience

in the death of your fiance.

Now, you've had a nervous breakdown.

In a lucid moment, you called US for help,

and that was a good decision.

We can help.

But you have to trust US.

Do you remember

any of the events around Paul's death?

No.

You see?

You have to work through these traumatic memories

that you've hidden from yourself.

Now, in the meantime,

you're a doctor,

and a good one.

You can help US with the other patients,

just as you want to.

It'll help ground you while you uncover the past,

perhaps end these delusions

and help you get healthy again.

When that happens, well...

Of course you can leave.

Or stay, for that matter.

Now...

I think that's quite reasonable.

Don't you?

I'll see you at dinner.

[Dialing]

["No service" beeping]

Come on.

["No service" beeping]

[♪]

There you are!

Just in time for dinner.

This way.

The cross-country skiing trip

has been canceled.

[Jovial laughter]

Oh! Friends and colleagues,

let me formally introduce our newest staff member,

Dr. Celeste dupont.

This is Dr. Fraser-Wilson.

How do you do?

And, uh, Dr. Herman bessemer.

It's a great pleasure.

And Dr. Esther bloom.

Hello, Celeste.

And, of course, Dr. Desmond Moore,

who you bumped into in my office yesterday,

also a recent arrival here at millburn.

How do you do?

Good. Thank you.

May I suggest we raise our glasses

in a toast to our newest staff member?

To Dr. Dupont.

Welcome.

[♪]

The prime purpose of the institute

is to keep the patients comfortable and content.

If that is all we do, we are frauds.

But most of our patients,

guests,

don't want to go back to society.

Their only desire is to be what they are,

or what they believe themselves to be.

My duty to my patients is to cure them

and get them back into society,

not maintain them in a state of derangement.

Let's consider the consequences of your, uh, good intentions.

You know why the guests are here at millburn?

They are embarrassments.

Yes.

Their families pay large fees

so they can be stored away and forgotten.

And you want to send them home?

Well, will they be met with love and compassion?

If there was love and compassion,

they wouldn't be sent to millburn in the first place.

Now, do you want to send your patients

into an atmosphere like that?

Yes.

If my patients are cured,

let them contend with that atmosphere.

I suggest that your motives

have less to do with the patient

and more to do with the doctor.

The issue is not my ego.

A doctor's duty is to cure.

Then cure away, my friend.

Have I ever stood in your way?

What do you think,

Dr. Dupont?

Should our ultimate goal

be a cure?

Of course.

But, the question is,

how is it to be determined

when a patient is cured?

And, when the time comes,

who decides if the patient is ready to go?

[♪]

[Rattles window, lock holds fast]

[Rattles window, lock holds fast]

[Thunder crashing]

[Man wailing and sobbing down hall]

[Sighing]

[Man's crying continues]

Hello, Evan?

My name is Dr. Dupont...

And I know that it's scary,

but the storm will pass soon.

[Evan has fallen silent]

I heard that you lost people you loved.

[Wailing sadly]

And I lost someone too.

[Sighs]

It's hard.

It's like having a bad dream that you can't wake up from.

[Sobbing]

[Thunder rumbles]

You keep that, Evan.

Don't be scared.

I'm close by.

You know, Celeste, it's not a sin.

20% of the world's population

has some sort of psychosis

at some point in their lives.

But what evidence do you have

that I have a psychosis?

Loss of memory.

Hallucinations.

Maybe it was just a vivid dream.

I see. A vivid dream now.

Not reality?

I mean, that's a wonderful first step.

You realize you've come through

a period of substantial trauma.

Look, Dr. Quilley...

[Exhales]

Look. I just want to get back to New York.

Okay? I'm not going to hurt myself

or anyone else.

But you chose to come here.

You have to trust US and cooperate.

Even with your professional expertise,

it's difficult to remain objective.

I respectfully disagree.

There is nothing wrong with my mind!

Try and stay calm. We have an agreement.

We all want what's best for you.

And what is best for me

is for you to give me my damn car keys

and let me get the hell out of here!

I'm sorry, Celeste.

We'll have to continue this when you're less upset.

Trust... and cooperate.

Excuse me. I have to see another guest.

[Sighs]

[♪]

Ahem.

[♪]

Hi there.

I'm a doctor.

Could you give me a lift

to the next town, please?

Sorry. No.

Look, there's been a huge mistake.

They're keeping me here against my will,

but I am not crazy.

Please, you've got

to help me.

Please, please, please, if you can drive...

Come on, come on, just get up!

[Leans on horn]

Get out!

Okay! Okay.

[Starter chugging, failing to ignite]

Come on!

No! Get off me!

[Struggling loudly]

No! Stop it!

Stop it! Let me go!

[Squeals briefly, falls silent]

[♪]

[Sound distorting]

[Crying out, echoing]: Dr. Quilley!

Dr. Quilley!

Are you there?

[Bell ringing]

Stop it!

[Grunting, sobbing]

Dr. Quilley!

Stop it!

[♪]

[Gasping]

[Breath slowing]

Hello.

[Gasps]

That was quite an escape attempt.

You scared the driver half to death.

[Exhales shakily]

Dr. Quilley, in his wisdom, has assigned you to me.

I hope you have no objections.

I am not a patient.

As old quilley pointed out,

I have a bit of a savior complex.

I like making people well.

Well, there are plenty of opportunities here for you.

You know, I realize that this is a catch-22.

You know, until I say that I'm crazy,

I can't get well.

Well, there is that...

But you did sign the commitment papers.

I thought that it was a contract.

I just didn't read it properly.

I've been briefed about your case.

There was a traumatic incident, the death of your fiance.

You remember nothing?

[Exhales shakily]: No.

Well, I think that's key

in making sure you get healthy again.

I suggest you settle in,

carry on in your capacity as doctor...

And, um, let me help you sort things out.

You'll help me get out of here?

I will do my best.

[Quietly]: Thank you.

Good.

This has been a good start.

[♪]

[Sighs wearily]

[♪]

Oh, no...

[♪]

Oh, my god.

Oh, my goodness.

What is it?

Now, why would you do that?

I did not do this! I was having a bath.

And a patient must have...

You know, or Mr. Jones...

'Cause he wants you to think that I'm crazy,

or to make me think that I'm crazy.

We can check for fingerprints.

They'd be yours.

Look, I can't believe that you think that I did this.

I didn't do this!

You know, sometimes,

when a person subconsciously knows they have misbehaved,

like trying to escape,

they can punish themselves.

That is ridiculous!

Why would I do this to punish myself?

I'll find her some clothes.

These'll do for now.

Where did they come from?

The storage closet.

They fit perfectly.

[Footsteps approaching]

Dr. Dupont.

[Chair scrapes floor]

Hello, Celeste.

Hi.

Oh, not again.

That suit looks good on you...

From what I could see before we lost the light.

So you all know what was done to my clothing?

Yes. Dr. Quilley told US.

I was accused of doing it myself.

[Electricity crackling]

Ah! Heh. There we go.

Celeste, you don't think

you slashed the clothing yourself?

Of course I didn't.

Someone came into my room

and maybe you know something about it.

Are you suggesting I had someone do it?

Maybe it was a patient.

My first thought was punishment.

She's punishing herself.

[Quilley]: I don't see punishment here...

Rather, a...

Calculated destruction.

Is there a clue in there?

Destruction of the clothes

is a desire to be naked.

And what is to be naked?

To return to the womb...

To go so far back

as not yet to be born.

To be not born is... Not to be.

I did not slash my clothing.

Dr. Moore, can you understand what I'm suggesting?

I understand it, but I can't yet accept it.

Will you concur

that there is a parallel

between committing oneself

to millburn

and the desire to discard the "old"

and Don the "new"?

Destroying the old clothing is to be done with the old self?

It's possible, but unproven.

I see no evidence to suggest

that Dr. Dupont slashed the clothing.

How are we to interpret

the manner in which the clothing was destroyed?

Just gotten rid of?

The tearing, the ripping, the violence?

A deep hatred

of the old self.

[Quilley]: So is there a link...

Oh, for god's sake.

Between this act

and the death of Dr. Dupont's fiance,

Dr. Paul Bernard?

You know, I am not going to sit here

and have myself dissected.

I did not slash that clothing,

and I suggest that you figure out who did it,

and then insult them with your theories.

[Evan wailing and sobbing]

Evan?

Evan, it's me.

You all right?

Of course you're not all right.

At least I have the freedom to walk around.

I'm just gonna... I'm gonna open this, okay?

So we can talk easier.

You there?

Well, if you need anything...

[Shrieks]

Evan! No!

Help! Help!

Oh, help! Help!

[Struggle continues]

[Grunting and straining]

[Gasping for breath]

Are you all right?

[Moore]: You know,

you can't let your guard down.

Some of these patients

are potentially very violent,

as you can see.

Oh, I was going to ask you something.

Would you like

to come in as a consultant on some of my cases

tomorrow?

Yes.

I'd like that very much.

Okay. Good.

My office by 9:00.

[Door opens, shuts]

You see, few women know this,

and even fewer men,

but what all women want is to be handled rough.

They all want to be treated like whores.

Well, right there, Bobby,

we have a fundamental delusion to deal with.

Oh, come on, Dr. Dupont.

If you were honest with yourself,

you'd admit it.

'Course, we could try a little experiment,

me and you.

Let me prove my point, so to speak.

Bobby.

Be respectful.

She won't admit it,

but we understand each other, don't we?

All women want to be punished.

Every woman at millburn.

And I would punish them, too...

If it weren't for Jones.

Mr. Jones?

What do you mean?

No, he's...

Not a very nice person, Mr. Jones.

He likes to hurt people.

Why do you think Mr. Jones would want to hurt you?

Because Mr. Jones wants to punish all the women himself.

You've met Isadora snow?

Yes.

She prefers our sessions up in her room.

Her poetry has been a lifeline for her.

A lifeline?

Mm, yes.

You see, Isadora killed her own baby,

smothered it.

We're not sure how or why.

We're working on that.

She hid the body

and then began kidnapping other infants,

three in fact, before she was caught.

Were the babies all right?

No.

[♪]

[Knock on door]

Right.

Celeste! Oh, come in, come in.

How lovely to see you again. Mm!

Likewise.

Yes. Oh, I see.

You're working with Desmond.

Lucky girl!

You make quite a cute couple.

Please, sit down, sit down.

How are you feeling, Isadora?

I'm feeling...

Well, I'm feeling quite frazzled, actually.

Can I offer you tea?

- Please. - Right.

Well, you see, my copy editor,

he's driving me crazy about the new volume.

You see, I'm trying to get ready for a reading here at millburn.

I have no time,

and I have no idea what to wear.

Well, perhaps

you could help me with that, Celeste.

Oh, I'd like that.

Someone extremely famous is coming here

to hear me read.

Who?

It's a surprise.

Oh.

Well, I would love to start by hearing one of your poems.

Oh, you want me to...

You-you-you... want me to read one of my poems now?

Yes, if that's all right.

I couldn't possibly.

Uh, because, um...

Well, because I'm not ready.

[Chuckles awkwardly]

I'm awfully sorry, but I can't.

No, that's all right.

You know, maybe another time.

Yes, but I'm going to be totally prepared on the night.

Totally prepared,

and I'm very excited about it.

Maybe we could talk about

what sort of subjects you like to write about?

What inspires you?

Oh, yes. Inspiration.

Well, oh... uh...

Birds in flight...

The changing seasons...

And baby carriages.

Baby carriages.

Now, that's interesting.

Can we talk a little bit more about that?

No.

[Knocking at door]

Dr. Moore?

Sorry to interrupt.

Mr. Gow is bothering cook again,

and I can't find Mr. Jones.

Excuse me. I'll be just a minute.

[Chuckling]: Don't be long.

You know, I understand

that you've just come to poetry recently,

yet you've already written enough for a reading?

And you've accomplished so much.

Well, it was as if a...

A-A-A creative dam burst, and the words just flowed out.

And was that Dr. Quilley's idea?

Well, no...

But he was very supportive of the idea.

I owe him a lot.

Well...

Not this Dr. Quilley...

The real Dr. Quilley.

The real Dr. Quilley?

I don't understand.

[♪]

You see...

The Dr. Quilley you've met is not really Dr. Quilley.

No, we lost him, I'm afraid,

some time ago.

This quilley...

Is an imposter.

And what happened to the real one?

They killed him

and buried him in the dungeon.

[Knocking at door]

Oh! Shh.

[Handle turns]

There we are.

Mr. Jones is back.

Now, where were we?

The inspiration... For a poem?

Yes.

I was so curious about her poetry. Aren't you?

Yes, if only we could pry some out of her.

Oh, she's so geared up for the reading.

She said something funny to me, today, while you were gone,

and apparently it's a secret,

but she thinks that quilley is an imposter.

Really? What does she suppose happened to him?

She thinks that he has been buried in the dungeon.

She's quite convinced.

I-I think about her connection to the child...

You've been working with me all day.

Do you think that I'm insane?

Absolutely.

Seriously, Desmond.

You don't think

that I slashed my clothing, do you?

It is hard to believe.

You've seen me work. You know that I'm competent.

You definitely know your stuff.

Look, this has all just been a horrible mistake.

Help me to get out of here.

I can't do that, Celeste.

If you keep progressing

as you did today,

maybe in a while, we can work on a day-pass.

I thought that you were on my side.

I am, Celeste.

I won't help you escape, but I will help you get better.

[♪]

[Knocking at door]

Thought you might like some tea, Dr. Beresford.

What did you call me?

[Sighs]: Oh. Dr. Dupont.

Sorry. My old head!

Who's Dr. Beresford?

Um...

She was the doctor here before you.

Took a leave of absence.

Good night, then.

Good night. Thank you.

[Footfalls receding]

[Keys jangling]

[Dials]

[Officer]: Police.

Hi there. This is Dr. Celeste dupont,

and I'm at the millburn institute,

and I'm being held here against my will,

but I am perfectly sane.

Uh, I can give you references in New York.

Please. Please, just send a car?

[Mildly amused]: Right.

I'm sorry... "Dr. Dupont," was it?

Just try to stay calm

and they'll look after you there.

They're very nice people...

No, no, no... I am telling you the truth.

You go and find the nurse

and she'll give you something

to make you feel better.

No, no! Please! I'm telling you that I need help.

[Line clicks, dial tone buzzes]

Hello?

No, no...

Ahh... so here you are.

I've been looking for you.

You're a bad girl, making outside calls.

Who you calling? Are you calling the police?

They never listen.

Well, now you gotta be punished, doctor.

Don't worry... it's not really punishment with me.

You're gonna love it!

Get off of...

Hey!

Get off of me!

[Struggling]

[Loud crashing]

[Celeste whimpering, Bobby laughing]

Take it easy!

[Celeste yelps]

No! Let me go!

We were just having some fun...

[Head-butts gow, who hits the floor]

My god...

[Phone beeping off-the-hook]

[Celeste gasping for breath]

I was...

I was just calling a friend...

I was just calling a friend.

No, no, please!

No, please. Please, no! I'm sorry.

[Phone still beeping]

[Celeste crying out, echoing]: Let me out!

[Clock chiming]

[Siren wailing]

Dr. Quilley, let me out!

[Celeste crying]

Let me out!

[Incoherent whispering]

Good morning, Celeste.

Or, um, afternoon.

You had quite a rough night.

You were calling out and crying.

Do you sleepwalk, normally?

Because we found you

unconscious, down the hall.

He put me in the cage again.

Mr. Jones again?

Now, don't you do that to me.

I was in Dr. Quilley's office last night.

Now, why would you do that?

To use the phone,

and Bobby gow...

He followed me.

[Voice wavers]: He followed me...

And he attacked me.

And then Jones came, and he knocked him out,

and then he drugged me,

and he put me in the cage again...

And there was quilley's bells and...

The chimes... and the sirens that wouldn't stop.

Celeste...

That's just not possible.

See, I know for a fact

that Mr. Jones was in the city last night,

and Bobby gow was in his room.

No, don't you do that to me!

I locked him in there myself.

Don't do that to me!

Celeste...

At the time of Paul Bernard's death,

was there a siren... Police or ambulance...

No!

You might've heard and now associate with Paul's death?

No! You follow me, and I will prove it to you.

No, it happened here.

Good morning.

But it was... There was glass.

And it was...

It was... it...

[Breathing loudly, trembling]

[♪]

[Celeste]: My... my dad had a family practice,

and he was warm and interested in his patients.

I like to think that, if I have some of that,

it's because of him.

How did you meet Dr. Paul Bernard?

[Takes a breath, chuckles sadly]

Paul was my prof in fifth year.

I always had questions after class,

and we often went for coffee.

And then, one day, at the same time,

we just both reached out...

And grabbed each other's hand.

That's very romantic...

But now we have to talk about Paul's death.

You see, you haven't told the truth

to me or yourself.

What?

It's time to tell the truth, Celeste.

D... don't.

Paul's death wasn't an accident.

He killed himself, Celeste,

and you found him. Do you remember that?

[Sobbing]: No.

You have to.

You have to go back to that moment.

[Sobbing]

[♪]

He killed himself...

And you found him.

[Sobs deeply]

Oh, my god.

And there was blood...

And he didn't move.

Oh, my god.

I touched him...

But he didn't move.

Why didn't he come to me?

Why didn't he talk to me?

Why didn't I see it coming?

You feel as if you have failed him

as a doctor and as a lover.

Yes. Oh...

You see, you were attracted to quilley's methods

because yours had failed

to diagnose your own lover in time.

Does all of this make sense to you?

Yes.

And you knew that.

That's why you came here as a patient.

[♪]

That's good. That's good.

That's very good.

This has been a big breakthrough,

Celeste,

the first step in your getting well.

Thank you, Desmond.

Thank you for telling me the truth.

Thank you.

Well done.

[Sighs heavily]

[Muted background dinner conversations]

[♪]

[Celeste]: Well, you often write your poems

from a child's point of view.

Why is that?

We are all children at heart.

In our last session,

you were telling me a little bit

about your family.

Could we talk about that again?

No.

Your husband?

[Snaps angrily]: No!

Your child?

You know...

You really do remind me a lot of Dr. Beresford.

So pretty, so concerned.

Perhaps it's because you're wearing her clothes.

Her clothes? What do you mean?

The clothes that miss donneymede gave you to wear,

they belong to Dr. Beresford.

That scarf... she used to wear it a lot.

I always admired it.

Could I try it on?

Sure.

Why doesn't Dr. Beresford have her clothes?

She doesn't need them anymore.

She's buried in the dungeon

with Dr. Quilley.

Isadora, we have been working on changing your beliefs

that Dr. Quilley

is not the real Dr. Quilley,

and I thought that we were making progress,

but you still believe that he is buried down there?

Well... I don't like to disappoint you.

And now you think

that Dr. Beresford is buried beside him?

I'm afraid it's true.

She took a "leave of absence."

I've seen the graves.

Now, I've decided, I like this one.

Could I please borrow it for my poetry reading?

Sure.

You're very nice.

Don't let them kill you, too.

[♪]

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you

our esteemed poet,

Isadora snow.

Thank you.

Thank you!

I am... I'm so excited I'm quite breathless,

but I am completely ready

to perform for you this evening,

and that is because we have with US

a very special, very famous guest...

Please, put your hands together...

In applause,

for...

Miss winfrey!

Miss... Oprah Winfrey.

[Hesitant applause rises]

Now, my first poem is called "cold floors."

[Silence descends]

"There's the responsibility," he told me.

He had always admired his nanny...

But the floors were cold.

They drove the nail into the wood!

I could feel the movement-like zen.

There's the lady with the baby carriage again.

Clean on Saturday, sleep on sunday.

All this restlessness inside me!

"I only wanted my Dolly."

And that's the tragedy.

The fish is not good!

[Bobby gow chortling]

[Others start snickering]

[Applause drowns out laughter]

Thank you.

Why was the floor so cold, and whose nanny was it?

E-Excuse me. What kind of doll?

I ate bad fish once, in Shanghai.

I'm so sorry, Oprah.

Please, could you stop talking?

But you're awful.

- Well... - Terrible.

My second poem is called "black and white."

Nothing is black and white.

Oh, bessemer, why don't you shut up?

I am trying to associate this "fish" business.

Who played a trick on her?

Please, could you stop talking?

That should have been

the therapeutic line for her.

[Chastising]: Desmond!

[Man]: I didn't eat fish again for years.

[Man #2]: I'd like to go back to my room.

I like cold floors.

You have embarrassed me in front of Oprah!

[People murmuring]

[Celeste]: Everyone, quiet!

Do you not understand

this is art!

[Isadora sobbing]

[Room falls silent]

That was the rudest display that I've ever seen,

guests and doctors both.

You know how important Isadora's poetry is to her,

and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

[Thunder crashing]

[Thudding down the hall]

[Door creaks]

[♪]

Evan?

[Thumping]

[♪]

Mr. Jones?

Mr. Jo...

[♪]

[Moaning]

[♪]

[Crying]

[Gasping]

[Crying approaching]

[Handle rattling, Evan grunting]

Please, Evan... Please, don't hurt me.

Please...

[Footfalls and crying receding]

[Thunder crashing]

[Screams and cries]

[Sobbing]

[Quilley]: Were you not aware

that Isadora was restricted

from having any belts or scarves?

Anything that she could harm herself with?

No.

Well, it was in the file.

Did you even read it?

The scarf seemed like an innocent request.

[Sighs]

How was it that you found Isadora?

It... it was during the power failure.

I-I heard a crash, I went out to the hall,

and I saw that Evan's door was open.

His door was open?

Yes. He'd escaped.

And so I was worried

that he might hurt somebody or himself.

So I called Mr. Jones for help...

And... and then he was coming,

and I ran upstairs.

Up the stairs?

Yes.

To hide.

I hid in a room,

and then I heard him leave...

And then I saw her.

Celeste,

Evan couldn't possibly have escaped.

You must have imagined the door being opened,

or possibly dreamt he was chasing you.

No, I saw the door open!

He must be able to get in and out of his cell.

No, he followed me.

Look, he gave me back my handkerchief.

What handkerchief?

He gave back my handkerchief.

Desmond, he did.

Celeste.

The idea that Evan can get in and out of his cell at will

is, um...

Unrealistic.

I think

what you both fail to recognize

is that even though Celeste is still highly functioning,

she is still deeply ill,

perhaps even more delusional

than we thought.

I'd like you to cancel your session with Desmond

and rest in your room

for the remainder of the day.

Miss donneymede will bring you your meals.

[Knock on door]

[Door opening]

Hello, my dear.

I've got your laundry.

How are you coping?

What a thing for you to have to go through.

Tragedy.

Well... at least she's at peace now.

Isadora told me

that this clothing belonged to Dr. Beresford.

Is that true?

Isadora had quite the imagination.

Bless her.

Goodnight, my dear.

[Door shuts]

[♪]

[♪]

[Cat meows]

[Gasping]

[♪]

[♪]

"Beresford"?

[♪]

[Gasps]

[Bobby]: Hey there, sweet buns.

What brings you down here?

This where you come

with the good Dr. Moore?

You know, we've all been speculating.

Ain't much of a love nest,

but there's no accounting, is there?

What are you doing down here?

[Celeste gasps]

[Cries out]: Jones!

"Jones!" they can't hear ya down here.

You can call all you want.

[Panting]

[Door rattles]

Are you hiding from me?

You stay away from me.

Where are you going?

[Rat squeaking]

There's a beauty.

[Celeste gasps as he fires weapon]

Look at that sweetheart.

You almost made me miss my shot.

Dr. Quilley says

I'm the best rat-catcher they've ever had.

It always gets me excited...

After a kill.

[Whimpering apprehensively]

I... I agree with Dr. Quilley.

Yeah?

I know you're a terrific shooter.

Yeah, it must feel good to...

To rid the place of them.

It does feel good.

[Cringes]: Ugh!

How do you feel?

Do you get excited after a successful hunt?

Yeah, but you only just started.

- Hmm? - You've only just started.

Yeah, I have only just started.

- Oh! There! - What?

Uh, th-there's a rat, behind the counter.

[Loads rifle chamber]

[Gun fires]

[Door opening]

[Panting breathlessly]

Desmond?

What is it?

I was just down in the cellar.

Down in the cellar? For what?

It's the middle of the night.

No, I needed to see for myself.

There are graves down there,

and there are labeled boxes and suitcases

with personal belongings, including Dr. Quilley's.

Now, why would Dr. Quilley's personal belongings

be in the basement,

unless what Isadora said was right?

The real Dr. Quilley was murdered

and the current Dr. Quilley...

I think that he killed Isadora

for telling me.

And Dr. Beresford...

Why are her suitcases down there,

and miss donneymede has her clothes?

So I think that they may have killed her

when she found out about quilley.

Okay, all right.

All right,

just take it easy, okay?

It's all right.

Let's just think this out logically.

I want you to just start breathing deeply

for a minute, okay?

Okay, now, look at this with me

as if you were the doctor, hmm,

and you're analyzing a patient.

Now first consider the patient's previous behavior.

The patient has experienced things

that may not have been real...

The cage with the clock,

and the bells...

The question of who ripped up your clothing,

the attack by Bobby gow when he was locked in...

And then being chased in the dark

by Evan Franklin,

when he never left his cell.

No, I believe that Evan was there,

and he gave me back my handkerchief.

You're a professional psychiatrist, Dr. Dupont.

But I saw the graves.

Okay. Let's start there.

Did you know that

they were repairing the foundation in the basement?

The plans

are on quilley's desk.

They're not graves.

They're part of the construction,

and the suitcase with quilley's name

no doubt is just

some unneeded personal effects.

There's a whole storeroom of donated clothing

on the third floor

for the guests.

Beresford herself donated some

before she went on leave.

You just happen to fit

Dr. Beresford's clothes.

You're her size. That's how you got them.

You're a doctor.

You also have a mental illness.

You know that, don't you?

And you're struggling

to separate fantasy from reality.

You're doing so well.

This is just a minor step backwards.

Okay, we're still in the early stages

of your therapy.

No, you're going to get cured.

We...

Are going to get through this together...

Until you are well again.

I promise.

I'm going to walk you back to your room.

Please... Don't be an illusion.

[♪]

[Quilley]: Dr. Moore and I have decided

it's time for you to move on

to the final stage of your treatment.

I'm worried that it's too soon, but...

What is the "final stage?"

The truth.

The truth about Paul Bernard.

I know the truth.

You told me.

The suicide story

was an interim first step, I'm afraid.

It got you half the way there.

You've blocked the deeper memories from your mind.

As a psychiatrist, you'll find this fascinating.

Okay, for god's sake, what are you talking about?

Paul's dead.

Paul's dead, isn't he?

Yes. He's dead.

But not by suicide.

You see, uh... You killed him, Celeste.

You shot Paul Bernard.

No...

No, it was suicide.

No.

You had to accept Paul's death in stages.

This is the final stage.

You were arrested for his murder.

You were found

mentally incompetent to stand trial.

You were declared

criminally insane,

and you were committed here to millburn.

Okay, I don't remember any of this.

I didn't kill Paul. Why would I kill Paul?

I remember finding him...

In flashes...

And there was blood...

And he was lying forward in his desk...

The gun...

That's good, Celeste.

That's what you remember.

We'll need to keep

going deeper into that memory.

But I-I couldn't have killed him.

I wasn't arrested.

I remember driving here alone to take my position here.

You were brought here in handcuffs,

by two court officers.

Don't you remember?

I don't remember any of this.

Your lack of memory about the, uh, murder,

your subsequent psychological evaluation,

and your being brought here...

It can all be explained by your deep-seated guilt.

[Moore]: It appears Paul had been carrying on

different affairs for some time...

Two with patients.

You found out.

[♪]

[Gunshot echoes]

I... I blocked it out...

It's the key to all your delusions, Celeste.

You've made the final big step, Celeste.

Let the true healing begin.

[♪]

I forgot how much fun it can be.

You know, when I was a little girl,

I used to muck out the stables for free rides.

Oh yeah?

You look like you've been riding your whole life.

It's just like riding a bicycle.

Thank you for suggesting it.

You are doing so well.

I owe it all to you, Desmond.

Well, I'll see you later.

All right, boy.

Now, where do they put your oats, huh?

[Horses whinnying]

I said there was stuff to do, but she said it didn't matter.

[Door bangs open]

Desmond! I have to talk to you.

Can't it wait? I'm in a session...

No.

Would you please forgive me?

I'll be right back, Herbert.

I found my car.

Do you know what that means?

That means that I did drive myself here,

like I remember,

that means I was not in custody,

and that means I did not kill Paul.

Okay, Dr. Quilley has been lying,

and manipulating me.

I am not a murderer.

Celeste, you know what the mind can do.

Please, just come and see the car.

[Sighs]

I was getting oats for the horses.

And then...

[♪]

No. It was right here.

The car was right here!

[Sniffles]: I swear, it was right here.

[Sobbing]: No...

[♪]

[♪]

After all this good work...

She was coming along so nicely.

Now she's backsliding.

We have to be proactive.

It doesn't help

that she's so familiar with analysis.

Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to bring her here to millburn.

[♪]

[Clunk]

It was all going so well.

How could she have found the car?

Don't blame me!

That's Jones' territory. He's usually so efficient.

I'm afraid we're going to have to

deal with Dr. Dupont

the same way we did

with Dr. Beresford.

[♪]

[Celeste's screams echoing]

Let me out!

You're becoming

a liability I can't afford.

Don't be such an ass, Desmond.

We always see our way through these things.

It's never a good idea

to get close to the guests.

I've warned you about that.

We'll sort this out like we always do.

Yes. We will.

[Quilley choking]

[Sighs, pours drink]

[♪]

Desmond...

Celeste!

Sorry to startle you.

Come. We're late for dinner.

Um, my stomach's a little upset.

I think I'm just going to take a walk.

I really think you should join US for dinner.

Sit.

Your hair smells marvelous.

Now, then, doctors, staff.

I have an announcement to make.

Dr. Quilley has, uh, decided to take a leave of absence,

and I will now be the acting director at millburn.

Congratulations, Desmond!

Yes. Excellent choice.

No.

No, he is lying. Okay?

Okay? Dr. Quilley is dead.

He did not take a leave of absence.

His body is in Desmond's office!

D-Did you hear me?

[Cutlery clinking]

Quilley is dead!

And I think that Desmond killed him.

[Cutlery scraping plates]

[Paper rustling]

Quilley... He's an... he's an imposter.

Okay? And I think that Desmond is too.

And I think that they killed Dr. Beresford

and probably others.

Okay, we have to call the police.

[Celeste erupts]: Did you hear me?

I saw the body!

And we have to call the police!

Desmond is an imposter and a murderer.

Could you pass the buns, please?

Of course.

[Others continue eating]

[Quiet realization]: Dr. Fraser-Wilson...

Where did you take your post-graduate studies?

I...

I can't remember.

Dr. Bloom...

In which hospital did you do your residency?

I have no idea.

You aren't doctors...

[Desmond]: That's very smart, Celeste.

You don't disappoint me.

You see...

Years ago, here at millburn,

the patients grew tired of the incompetent doctors

analyzing them and medicating them,

telling them what to do...

[Takes a breath]

So, we decided to replace them.

Replace them?

Yes. You know quilley's philosophy...

"You are who you think you are."

The former patients are now doctors.

[♪]

[Quietly]: What happened to the doctors?

Ah, well...

[Smacks lips]

They took, um...

Leaves of absence.

[Takes a deep breath]

I think this is probably an appropriate time

for some re-introductions.

Dr. Fraser-Wilson...

His real name is ed rickets.

Pushed a car with his wife and children

off a cliff in Vermont.

Dr. Herman bessemer...

Is actually Joseph pyper.

Murdered five prostitutes in New Jersey.

Dr. Ester bloom...

Her real name is Molly onderdonk.

She poisoned four wedding guests in Toronto.

We all have our stories.

And miss donneymede?

Felicity Morgan.

She went into her accounting firm

and shot half of middle management.

And who is Desmond Moore?

His name is Damon bushby.

Tortured his wife and her lover to death.

[Damon/desmond]: You see...

We're all patients, like you, Celeste,

but the question is...

Will you join US

and continue on here at millburn,

or resist...

Like Dr. Beresford did?

[♪]

That's too bad.

That's disappointing.

She'll be missed.

She was down in the basement.

Would you just go see

if she didn't turn off the power grid?

Of course.

[♪]

Get off me!

[Kick, groan]

[Lever clunks]

[Zapping]

[♪]

[Clock ticking]

Oh, good!

I was worried about you.

How do you feel?

I don't like to rush you,

but you never did really answer my question.

I've grown rather fond of you, Celeste, so, uh...

You have another chance.

It's the question

I asked Dr. Beresford and all the others.

Would you accept the situation here at millburn

and stay with US?

I need to know the truth.

Did I kill Paul?

[Chuckles]: Paul!

Paul, Paul...

I'm so sick of hearing about Paul!

[Blurts]: No! You didn't kill Paul!

He killed himself.

But you had to think that you killed Paul

so that you could be one of US.

You could go on

being who you thought you were,

a murderer.

[Pacing]

Now it's all falling apart because you won't play the game!

You know,

I just don't think

you're really a good fit here at millburn, Celeste.

In fact...

I think maybe it's time...

That you took a leave of absence.

No...

I can help you.

No, I could give you treatment.

[Laughs]: Treatment?

You're going to give me treatment?

I don't need treatment, Celeste.

I'm perfectly sane.

[Kick, groan]

Aah!

Help! Help! Somebody, help...

[Door slams]

[Struggling]

They always tell me I don't have to do this...

But I do.

[Grunting]

[Gagging]

[Desmond/damon gasps]

[Furniture crashing]

[Blows landing]

[Grunting]

[Smack, groan]

[Panting]

[Dispatch radios crackling indistinctly]

[♪]

Have you found donneymede and Jones?

No, no, they cleared out, but we'll find them.

What about the graves in the cellar?

Well, forensics is down there now.

Listen, we I.D.Ed the body you knew as "quilley."

It was a Rupert Preston.

He was a patient here.

Damon bushby killed him.

Lucky he didn't kill you.

I had some help.

Evan?

[Quietly]: It's okay.

So this is Evan Franklin...

And he saved my life.

How do you do, Mr. Franklin?

What are your plans, doctor?

Are you going back to the city,

or...?

Well, the o.H.M. Has asked me to stay on

as interim director

while they find new staff.

What'd you tell them?

I haven't given them an answer yet...

But...

A little time in the country

might do me good.

Come on, Evan.

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