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Hey, Ace!

Come here boy.

Good boy.

Hey, Mom! Molly!

Hey! Ooh!

What's up squirt?

Squirt?
I'm almost as tall as you.

Whatever.

Hi, honey.

Hey, Mom. How are you?

I'm so good to see you.

Good to see you, too.

What's that I smell?

Mom, please tell me that's
your lasagne in the kitchen.

That is my lasagne

you smell in the kitchen.

I learned to cook
while you were away.

So, we got a backup plan
for dinner, right?

Shut up!

Come on guys,
let's go get something to eat.

Hey, remember
that time you lost Ace?

- The time that I lost Ace?
- Mm-hm.

No, you lost Ace.

Mom, she left
the front door wide open.

I'm gonna get some more juice.

Anybody need anything?

Honey, can you get
some more water?

We could all use
a lot more water.

Okay, Mama.

Thank you.

So, how's school going?

It's going good. Yeah.

We are so proud of you, honey.

- Thanks, Mom.
- So proud.

So, did you know that I made
the honor roll before?

No, I didn't.

Wait, you made the honor roll?

I don't remember that.

I'm not so sure
I believe that.

That counts.

I must admit
this lasagne is pretty good.

Here we go.

I'll take some of that.

I got that. Okay.

So, the lasagne
is pretty good, huh?

Not bad, not bad for a rookie.

- Here you go, Tim.
- Thanks, Dad.

Although you did learn
from the best.

Of course. Of course.

Here you go, Mom.

- Thanks, honey.
- Mm-Hm.

Take another piece
of this bread.

Since when did you start
eating so much?

He learned it from you, dear.

Yeah, but I work out.

- Okay.
- All right.

But in all seriousness,
I wanna make a toast to Tim.

It's great to have you home,
son.

Thanks, Dad.

Tim, I'm glad you're here.

To family!

To family!

- You okay, Dad?
- Honey?

I don't know. I don't feel good
all of a sudden.

Honey.

Do you think it was the food?

No, I don't know.

Maybe... maybe it's the wine.

Anyway, I'm not feeling good.

Tim, I'll talk
to you later, okay?

Okay.

Welcome home, son.

- I'll check on you later, okay?
- Okay, I got it.

Molly?

Oh...

Charlotte, why did you set
the alarm so early

on a Saturday?

Apparently, as a wake-up call
that you have left me.

No, I haven't left you yet.

I suspect you're hiding
a small fortune from me

and I'm not divorcing you
until I get my cut.

Ah, you know,

when we first met and I told you
I was a drug smuggler,

I was joking.

Yeah, you have a nice car.

It's expensive.

It was all for show.

Yeah?

My dad was rich.

And my room sucked.

But you didn't answer
the question.

Oh, I told you last night,
honey, I had a headache.

I'm not that flexible.

No, about the alarm.

And, yes, you are that flexible.

That's why I married you.

Oh!

And I thought you married me

'cause I'm funny.

Oh, and the alarm clock?

Honey, you really need
to start remembering things.

I can't believe
you don't remember

today's
your co-worker's funeral.

And you asked me
to set the alarm clock early.

Shit! That's today?

I don't remember asking you

to set the alarm clock
last night.

You didn't.

You asked me
to set it last week.

Yeah, that's today.

Why did I agree
to attend this funeral?

I didn't even
really know the guy. I mean...

We said hello in the hospital,

sometimes goodbye.

But I didn't really,
like, know the guy.

Well, I don't think
there's a choice

if we go or not to funerals.

I mean, when one
of your co-workers dies

and someone else
from your office tells you

where the funeral is,

you're expected to be there.

Speaking of which, where is it?

The secret money stash?

The funeral.

I'm sure I asked you
to remember that, too.

Yeah.
Are you really?

Really what?

Sure you asked?

No.

I like those.

Really?

Yes, I love those.

Thank you.

Philip, honey,
we need to get going.

Come on.

I'm coming. I'm coming.

Oh, hi, Grace.
When did you get here?

About a half an hour ago.

Daddy!

The time that you
asked me to remember

to tell her to be here, honey.

Okay, okay,

I will start using
the calendar on my phone.

- Really, when?
- Soon.

- Tomorrow?
- Sure.

You promise?

Just remind me.

Bye, sweetie.

Bye, Daddy.

Be good.

Man is tested.

This, if nothing else,

we take from the Bible.

In a world
where the very existence of God

is questioned,

we all must take
this fact with us

as we awaken
from our long hours of sleep.

Another
day, another test,

we all feel pain.

Some succeed
where others have failed.

Well, this test, my
friends, helps us to determine

our level of strength.

Lewis Barnes was a
man who was tested.

The man who was loved
by his friends and family.

By many people here

who are grieving
over his passing,

whom he thought didn't care.

Thanks for coming.

Anything for a friend.

By the way, why am I here?

Because I asked you to be.

Lewis did work with us,
you know.

No, Lewis worked with you
in the second wing.

I work in the third
wing with Maxine.

Oh.

Now, if she died, I would cry.

You're married.

Yeah, but it's nice
to have something to look at

when I go to work.

I'm sure nobody looked at Lewis.

I wanted you here
because I wanted to talk to you

and because I'm leaving
right after this

to go on vacation with the wife
and kids for a few days.

- Hawaii?
- Really?

You know where I work.

That's not in the budget.

We're going
to the parks in Florida.

So, what did you wanna
talk about?

Lewis was working on
something before he...

...all
that are grieving today...

And flood their souls with hope,

knowing that underneath
are your ever...

Amen.

So, he was trying to decipher
a piece of work,

a diary written
by one of our patients.

You know, the Goldman girl.

Yeah, killed her family.

Yeah.

She poisoned her family, right?

I guess she got tired of waiting

because in the middle
of the night,

she got up
and hacked them to death.

Tried to kill herself
with the same shit.

Failed.

Damn.

She came in complaining

about nightmares, remember?

Yeah, so?

She said she was tired
of falling asleep

because the...
The nightmares were so bad.

Every morning we'd go in,
and she'd tell us details

about her latest nightmare.

Her arms were bruised up
and shit.

Scratches that she said
she must have done in her sleep.

We watched the tapes.

That girl never went to sleep.

She was awake the entire time,

just staring off into space

and then attacking herself.

I'm serious.

Okay.
So, what was Lewis working on?

The girl kept claiming

that her killing her parents
was part of a dream.

She demanded to see them.

So, of course,
we determined she's crazy.

We can't say that
about our patients.

The point is
all that shit isn't the...

most mentally unstable part.

The girl kept a diary that...
that was...

Crazy?

The girl kept a diary

of her offing her family.

Uh...

This... this diary
wasn't any Anne Frank,

"Help me, I'm in the Attic"
shit either.

You can't say that either.

I'm Jewish.

I am allowed to say that.

You're just not allowed
to laugh at it.

Continue.

Point is Lewis
was trying to figure out

what the hell
the girl was writing about.

We really need that report

that he was doing about it
finished.

I can't finish Lewis's thoughts.

Besides, why don't you just
ask the girl?

She's dead.

Suicide.

Strangled herself.

That's not possible.

Try telling her that.

I really appreciate this,
Philip.

I would do it myself,
but, like I said, vacation.

Uh, I wouldn't want to let down
my wife and kids.

They have been begging for this
for the past two years.

That would be a shame.

I don't know what I would do
if she left me. I mean...

Who would want me?

Right, all right.

Honey, here are your keys.

It was really good
to see you, Philip.

You too.

And you, too, Charlotte.

You too.

Take care.

Lewis' notes
and the girl Molly's diary

will be in your office
in the morning.

Thanks again.

Don't worry about it.

Have fun with the Mouse
in the parks.

I will.

By the way,
what did Lewis die of?

Suicide.

Dr. Philip Tanner.

Watson Psychological
Treatment Center,

July 12th, 2017.

I will continue the research
and documentation

on our former patient, a Miss...

Molly Marie Goldman,
aged 15, deceased.

It is the belief
of my fellow doctors

that this patient suffered

from night terrors
and nightmares

that she began
to mistake for reality.

These dreams seem to eventually
set her on a course of insomnia,

over a course
of a couple of weeks.

And without sleep, Molly's mind
began to deteriorate.

Molly Marie Goldman
was found lying naked

atop her older brother's body,

who she had just murdered,

along with her family,

parents, and the family dog.

The young girl
tried unsuccessfully

to poison herself,

was determined
to be insane by a judge

and sent
to the John B. Watson Center

for psychiatric evaluation,

where she was treated
for two years

before committing suicide.

I read the patient's diary,

much to my dismay,

because while it starts out

as a young girl's view
on her life,

it begins to lose focus
mid-sentence

about a week
before she committed her crimes.

The book begins to weave
a string of stories

I can only assume she created
out of her own mind.

Going on boating rides
with angels,

swimming in clouds,
and so forth.

It continues to move in
and out of these stories,

are seemingly connected
or a continuation of each other

and then from there goes
into great deal

about the proper way
to sew a dress

and cooking recipes, wh...

Hello?

Previous research
has resulted in theories

that dreams are created
during REM sleep.

Brain cells activated

that normally control
eye movement,

balance, and motor functions.

However, in the case
of this patient,

it appears these brain centers
activated while she was awake

causing hallucination,

panic, and frightening daydreams

that she had no recollection of.

Molly seemingly lost the ability
to tell when she was dreaming

while she was awake
and perceived her life

to be much different
than it actually was.

For one...

Near the end of her diary,

Molly alludes
to several sexual encounters

with her older brother

with specific
and vivid description.

However, a physical examination

gave no clear indication
of sexual trauma.

Molly's psychiatrist
could not convince her

that the difference
between her reality

and her dreams.

And it is eleven o'clock,
and I will finish tomorrow.

Oh, Jesus Christ!

No, just me.

What are you doing here
so late, Dr. Tanner?

Stealing drugs, you?

Just making my rounds.

Shit, you look tired.

Did I frighten you?

Yeah, tired.

And frightened.

I wasn't expecting anybody
besides the security guards

to be here so late.

Did you walk past my office
a few minutes ago?

No.

Are you okay, Doc?

Yeah.

Can we get somebody
to fix these lights?

Yeah, no problem.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Good stuff?

To truly be an intellectual,

you must first
understand the people.

What are you reading?

A teenage girl's diary.

Oh, so you do have
another family out there.

Yes.

But this is not
from one of them.

This is from a former patient,
now deceased.

How's Grace?

Grace is good,

although I feel
like she's spending

way too much time
watching Cindy.

I think she's trying
to avoid the dating scene.

So stop asking her to babysit.

She just volunteers.

She's always asking if we have
plans, do we need a sitter?

I'm not a very convincing liar.

Well, I can't seem
to fool anyone, but you.

Why are you reading
an old patient's diary?

Sometimes we like to go through
old files and documentation.

Get a good idea of the state
of mind and mental disposition

of some of our patients.

That way when
and if anyone else comes in

presenting the same issues,

we have a reference point.

I thought you approached
all your patients

like individuals.

We do.

But we do have proven techniques
that we use over and over again.

All cats are not the same,

yet we still try
to give them milk.

What?

Nothing.

Just trying to create
my own motto,

something to be remembered by.

Or hated for.

There is something
on the first page

I wanted to ask you about.

Shoot!

"Warning."

This diary belongs
to Molly Marie Goldman.

All contents are secret

and not to be read
by anyone ever.

Consider this your final warning

"for whomever read..."

Is that proper context?

What? "Whomever"?

I think so.

Whomever... whoever.

Mm-hmm, yeah.

Anyway...

"for whomever reads this
will be forever cursed."

And then she just stops.

Jots down, "I'll be right back"
and never finishes the curse.

It doesn't sound
like a question.

Do all girls
curse their diaries?

Only the ones
who are secretly witches.

I don't know, honey.
I didn't keep a diary.

I thought
all women kept diaries.

Only the ones that need someone

to bounce their thoughts
and ideas off of.

I never needed that.

I had a teddy bear

and a fully thought-out plan.

A plan?

Yes, marry a doctor,
have a daughter.

Seriously?

Yeah, marry a doctor,
have a daughter.

It's about as far
as I thought it out,

but so far,
it's worked out pretty nicely.

No, seriously?

Women can plan
what kind of child we have.

If you want a son,
and we give you a daughter,

it's because we don't like you
very much.

What else does
this patient have to say?

Well, she goes into great detail

about the proper technique
to sew a dress,

and I mean great detail.

I can say after reading this

that we'll never have to buy
Cindy clothes again.

Just bring me a bolt of fabric.

And there's other entries

about the size
of her brother's penis...

Whoa!

Too much information there,
Tiger.

I thought you wanted to know
what I was working on.

Goodnight, Philip.

I have to work tomorrow,
early and I'm sleepy.

- No sex?
- No.

I was gonna give you
a little southern kissing,

but I lost my mood.

Okay.

Goodnight, Charlotte.

Love you.

Thank you, Psycho.

Just in case.

Cindy!

What the...

Charlotte, where's Cindy?

Charlotte!

Yes, Philip?

Philip.

Sorry, I... had a nightmare.

Mm, do tell, doctor,
this sounds good.

It's not funny, Charlotte.

It's not funny.
It was so... real.

Actually, it is funny.

Honey, aren't you the one
that always tells patients

that dreams and nightmares...

Are only clues
into what troubles us

in our conscious state.

I know,
and they still are, but...

Charlotte,
I dreamt Cindy was gone

and you were dead.

Oh, honey. It's okay.

I've had that same dream.

Then I ran off with Brad Pitt
to live in sin in Jamaica.

You went off with him, too?

Tsk. No.

Maybe Nicole Kidman.

He's back.
My husband's back.

Still corny, but he's back.

No more late-night sandwiches.

Philip.

What's wrong?

Two things.

One, the toilet seat

is never left up
by our daughter.

I almost blamed her
for this mess

and then I noticed
the seat's up,

and I immediately
thought of you.

And the pool boy who comes by
while you're at work.

- Mess?
- The towels, Philip.

- I...
- You know what, Philip?

We have our own bathroom.
It's in our bedroom.

You mess that one up,
I will happily do the cleaning.

I get a little angry
when you come in

and take your wrath out
on our daughter's bathroom.

I must have been sleepwalking
a bit.

I'll pick it up.

No, I got it. You know how I am.

First of all, these are
gonna need to be washed.

They were on the bathroom floor,
for God's sake.

It's not a public restroom.

All the same, Philip.
It's all the same.

You know, I thought I cured you
of being a neat freak,

all those hours on my couch.

No, you cured me
of my virginity on that couch.

I only pretended
not to have so many problems

so I could marry
into your money.

Is Cindy still asleep?

Actually, no.

Grace came
and picked her up early.

When?

She didn't wanna say goodbye?

She did.

She also said she loves me.

She didn't mention you, though.

I thought I was the favorite.

Mutiny!

They actually have
a busy day scheduled.

They're going to the park
and the zoo.

There's ice cream involved,
junk food.

Some of us have
our priorities straight.

Besides, honey,
you were dead asleep,

and I know you love your sleep.

I also know you have
a busy day at the office

and you need your rest.

I need to get to work.

You're getting fat.

And you... Double standard.

Look thinner.

Hello?

Hey, honey.

No, I decided
not to feed her today.

Fine, I'll get dinner started.

Have fun working late.

Mommy says hello.

Hi, Mommy.

Bye, honey.

All right, let's get
these toys cleaned up.

Wait, Daddy.
I want to play hide-and-seek.

Well, Daddy has to listen
to Mommy and get dinner started.

Please.

Fine. One game, okay?

Okay, but you have to count,
Daddy,

and close your eyes.

- One, two, three...
- Daddy!

What?

You can't peek, Daddy.

You have to do this
and count to a thousand.

How about ten?

Thousand.

One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven,

eight, nine, ten.

I'm coming!

What the hell?

Daddy.

I'm coming.

What the hell?

Daddy.

I'm coming.

Cindy, those papers
are important.

You know better.

Cindy, you're not supposed
to play with Daddy's papers.

Now, I'm about
to cancel this game.

Cindy.

Cindy!

The game's over, sweetie.

It's not safe
to play in the dark.

Cindy!

Cindy, come on, sweetie.
This isn't funny.

Jesus!

Cindy!

Cindy!

Cindy, it's not safe
to be out here, sweetie.

No!

Sweetie, are you okay?

Daddy, I'm hungry.

Shh, it's okay.

It's okay.

Philip, calm down.

Calm down, Jeffrey?

Calm down?

I've injured myself.

I'm seeing things.

I need an objective opinion.
I can't evaluate myself.

I think I'm losing it.

Sleepwalking doesn't constitute
losing it, Philip.

You had a realistic nightmare.

You walked
into a wall or something.

Falling off a roof
and onto a barbecue grill

is not sleepwalking.

And besides,

in the dream, I crawled
through Cindy's window,

but she was in the house
the whole time.

She's smart, Jeffrey.

If she would have known
I was on that roof,

she would have started
screaming.

She's afraid of heights.
That would have woke me up.

It would have woken you up,
maybe.

Maybe you didn't even
climb out the window.

Maybe you simply walked outside

and tripped over the grill.

You have no proof that the whole
climbing on the roof thing

was even real.

Real?

Jeffrey, the nightmare seemed...

You were sleepwalking, Philip.

How much sleep have you gotten

since I asked you

to work on Lewis's research?

Not much.

Well, then get
some sleep, Philip.

I won't be back
for a few more days.

There's no rush to finish
the goddamn thing.

Christ, you're gonna
end up like Lewis.

I'll call you.

Jeffrey, what happened to Lewis?

I told you.

Suicide.

I got to go, Philip.

Jeffrey, what happened to Lewis?

What happened to Lewis?

He shot himself
in the chest, Philip.

He didn't climb up on the roof
and fall on a grill

or anything like that.

He lived in a shitty
house with a wife.

You know, with the blond one

who was crying at the funeral.

Yeah, a wife
who was cheating on him

with whoever
could get a hard-on.

That's why.

That's it.

That doesn't make sense.

You were
sleepwalking. That's all.

It's very common.

You know what?

Ask your wife to watch you

while you sleep tonight.

I'll...
I'll call you when I get back.

Hey, guys. I'm home.

Hey, Doc.

Honey, what's wrong?

I'm fine. Why?

Honey, you're soaked,
that's why.

I like my couch and carpets dry

like I do my wine and humor.

Sorry, I went out to check
on the wires, got wet.

After we hung up,
the power went off, so...

Philip, hung up? We didn't talk.

Right.

I went out to check
on the wires and I got wet.

Your lip?

Tripped over the grill.

You know me.

I do.

I've got a lot of work to do.

Can you order a pizza?

I never got a chance
to start dinner.

Philip, are you sure
you're okay?

Yeah.

What kind of pizza do you want?

I don't care.

Okay, I guess I can go
clean up the water

and the mess that you made

and figure out what kind
of pizza to order for us.

I said I'm sorry, Charlotte.

Now, I'm trying
to get some work done.

Huh.

Cindy.

Let's order some pizza, honey.

Come on.

Who the fuck cares
about dressmaking?

Recipes.

Come on, Molly.
You got to help me out here.

Decent reports, time, date.

"Patient suffers from insomnia."

"Can't tell the difference
between dream and awake."

Welcome to the club.

Bomb.

Okay, come on, Lewis.

You got to help me out here
somewhere, buddy.

Recorder.

Philip, where are you going?

I have to go back to the office
to get some paperwork.

Honey, it's pouring outside
and it's late.

This can wait till tomorrow.

My God, did you hit your head
on the grill?

This is just important.

I got to get this over
and done with.

I'll call.

Philip.

His works on the diary.

He had a notebook
or a tape recorder

or something.

Paperwork.

You are not real.

Why didn't any of you
believe me?

I didn't kill my family.

No, no. It's just a dream.

Why?

It's not real.

Not real.

My brother loved me.

We were going to get married.

It's just a dream.

I didn't kill my family.

Yes, Molly.

You did.

My brother
was in love with me.

No, Molly.

He wasn't.

Wake up.

May I help you?

You may not remember who I am.

I'm Philip Tanner.

I was a friend
of your husband's.

I worked with Lewis.

I was at the funeral.

I know who you are.

How can I help you?

I need something
of your husband's.

A tape recorder or a notebook.

It's midnight.

Whatever you need has to wait
until the morning.

Please.

This is a matter
of life or death.

It has to wait till tomorrow.

I have some company and...

I need some very
important information.

I don't care what it is.

I don't care who you are fucking

three days
after your husband's death.

All I need is any information

that he neglected
to turn back in.

And I am not taking
"no" for an answer.

That's it!

Listen, the lady
asked you to leave.

And I'm telling you,
get the fuck out of here.

I asked

for some
very important information.

Now, I am telling you

I need to come inside.

Now!

Okay, buddy.

Calm down.

Move the fuck out of my way.

Now!

Your husband.

He worked
from home sometimes, yeah?

- Yes.
- Take... take it easy.

Shut up!

Where?

Just point or something,
goddamn it.

Please, just help me.

There.

He worked in there.

Inside, move.

Move, up against the wall.

Please, I don't wanna hurt
anybody, just...

Don't do anything stupid.

Oh, come on, Lewis.

This is all that I needed.

I'm just trying to save...

Just trying... Just get out.

I'm Dr. Lewis Barnes

with notes on day three
of the evaluation.

Personally, I never thought
it would take this long

to analyze such a short diary.

I should mention
I have had a few distractions

while attempting to work.

Earlier, I discussed theories
on dreams and nightmares

and the toll they seemed to take
on the human mind.

Lack of sleep, hallucinations,

increased anxiety, memory loss.

Some of my own distractions

were probably centered
around the boat.

Fuck your neighbors
behind your back

like... like my wife.

Reality was slipping away and...

The only way to try
and regain a hold of it

was to try and immerse yourself

in something you know is real.

Like... Like...
cooking recipes, first...

Well, I got a boat.

But I can't drive it

because all she's doing
is waiting for me to die

so she can collect
on the insurance.

I put a bomb on my boat...

And if I tell anyone
that I've seen Molly,

they'll say I'm crazy.

I've spent my entire life

learning how to tell people

when they're crazy,
and now some prick

is gonna look me in my face
and tell me I'm crazy?

She's crazy!

Women are crazy.

Molly Goldman lost
touch with reality.

She had dreams or nightmares

of making love to her brother

and nightmares of her parents
trying to tear

their twisted,
fucking love apart.

And the little bitch
killed them.

It's there in plain
black and white English.

Ink and paper,

octopus excretion
and dead trees.

But she thought killing
her parents was the dream

and loving her brother
was the reality.

Wake up.

Wake the fuck up!

No, no, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no!

Stop it!

Stop it, please, Molly.

I didn't kill anyone.

Yes, you did.

It was a fucking dream.

Please, listen to me.

You lost touch with reality.

No, no, no, no!

What is it you want with me?

No.

You were suffering
from insomnia.

You were hallucinating.

You thought you were dreaming,

but you were awake
the whole time.

You killed your family.

Wake up!

Hey, you.
Cindy finally asleep?

Yeah, she's an angel.

But I'll try to be quick.

What the fuck?

Philip.

Where were you?

Philip.

It ain't worth it, man.

Just let me get out of here.

This is between you
and your wife.

Okay, okay.

Philip?

Philip.

Philip.

Philip.

Philip.

Philip.

Philip, please.

Please, Philip.
We can say he broke in, Philip.

Please, we can say...

We can say he broke in and you...
You killed him.

Philip?

Philip.

Philip. Philip, please.

Philip, please.

Oh, God.

Philip.

Philip, please don't hurt me.

Philip, please.

Please don't.

No, please, don't hurt me.

I loved you.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Philip.

I'm sorry.

I have to kill you.

Oh, no.

Cindy.

Cindy?

I just want to wake up.

Molly?

Molly.

Molly.

Molly.

Molly.

Molly, what is it
you want with me?

Help.

Help?

What?

Help.

Help.

Help what?

Why don't you believe me?

I wasn't your psychiatrist.
I wasn't involved.

Wasn't?

Molly, you're dead.

No.

Yes, you are.

No.

Yes.

How?

You strangled yourself...

In your cell... room.

I didn't belong here.

I didn't belong here.

You were sick. You needed help.

- No.
- You killed your family.

- No.
- What do you want with me?

You know,

it's not nice
to read a girl's diary.

What do you want?

I cursed it
so no one would read it,

but you did anyway.

I warned you.

What was I supposed to do?

I'm sorry, but it's my job.

Do you know
what they told me in my cell

while they fucked me?

When I told people
they were fucking me?

"Wake up."

They're coming for you.

Who's coming?

- Put it on the ground!
- Police!

Let me see your hands.

Put it on the ground right now.

- Freeze!
- Get down, get down!

Put the weapon on the ground.

Put it on the ground, right now.

Freeze!

Put it on the ground. Right now.

Put the weapon on the ground.

Right now.

- Put it on the ground.
- Let me see your hands.

All right, all right.
Let's just stay calm.

It's okay, Jeff.

Everything is okay.

That's right, buddy.

Everything is gonna be okay.

Just put the gun down

and let these officers

take you down
to the station, okay?

For what?

They're not going
to believe you.

Philip.

Philip.

You killed Charlotte.

Do you know that?

What?

Just calm down
and put the gun down.

No.

No, Jeff. It's all just a dream.

I know everything
is very confusing

right now, Philip.

I'm sorry that I hung up on you.

And as soon as the police
called me, I came.

It's all just a dream.

Told you.

Shut up.

Philip, Philip.

Listen to me.

I'm here to help you.

I don't need help, Jeff.

I didn't kill my fucking wife.

I didn't kill my fucking wife!

Philip, just take it easy.

I'm here to help you.

It's time for me to wake up now.

I said wake me up, Molly.

I said, wake me up.

Wake me up!

I said wake me up, now!

Uh-huh.

Okay.

Tell Cindy I said
have fun at the zoo.

She talking yet?

All right.

Well, it's... it's not uncommon

for children
who've lost their parents

to go through a period
of silence.

She'll get better.

Bring her in to talk
to, uh, Walter.

He specializes
in grieving children.

Yeah.

I miss them, too.

Listen, uh, bring Cindy over.

She can play with my kids,
and we'll have dinner.

Then when the kids go to sleep,

we can get drunk and
tell stupid stories

about Charlotte and Philip.

Uh-huh.

Okay.

Tell Cindy
that Uncle Jeff loves her.

Okay.

Bye-bye.

Jesus.

Sorry, I was just coming
to ask you...

You okay?

You just scared me. I'm fine.

If you need to talk...

Hey, hey, I'm the doctor,

you're supposed to come to me
with your problems.

I'm all right. Thanks.

Okay. Have a nice day.

Uh, wait.

- Yes?
- What's that?

Oh, yeah. I was gonna ask you.

I was just about to put
these in storage.

What is it?

Mr...

Mr. Tanner's things.
Some of his files.

Looks like something
he was working on.

Um... Okay, uh...

Yeah, go ahead
and put them in storage

and, uh, just label them.

I'll go through them later.

Oh, um...

I don't think
this belongs to him.

Some kind of diary.

Him being a man and all,
I figured him...

Damn, that fucking diary.

I'll take it.

It was a patient's.

I still have to finish
a report on it.

All right.

Finish
this psychiatric guideline

or do a simple report
on a girl's diary?

Tsk.

It's a simple job,

but somebody's got to do it.

"For whomever reads this
will be forever cursed."

Hmm, looks like rain.

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