Why can't I remember?
How are you feeling today, Cora?
There was this wallpaper like the design on a dollar bill.
It's on every wall.
You'll be sentenced in two weeks time
with no right to appeal.
These proceedings are concluded.
So we just got the car that
Mason Tannetti saw at the crime scene.
Reported stolen last week in Trenton.
Two passengers,
Probably oxy users.
This girl, she got pregnant.
She wanted to name the baby Winter.
But J.D., he didn't want to be a father.
Maddie, getting pregnant doesn't make you matter,
neither does jumping in front of a car.
Todd, this is Cora.
Me and him have been talking about working on a project together.
I can't breathe! My heart! You're ok.
Everything's ok. Everything's ok.
No, no, don't, I know they poisoned me! No, you're just peaking.
Are you coming? Cora, are you coming?
Cora sees Frankie doing chest compressions on Phoebe.
Hey! Help me!
Breathe!
The basement room sits empty,
littered with debris from the party.
The lights dim and the room fades to present day,
where Cora hunches on the floor with Harry beside her.
It was Phoebe. It was Phoebe all along.
I tried to take her home.
I knew something was gonna happen.
I knew it.
It's not your fault.
I should have stopped it.
Cora, it's not your fault.
It wasn't Frankie's fault either.
He was trying to save her, but I killed him.
She clutches the edge of a pool table for support
and Harry bows his head.
What about what happened after?
The scars on your arms?
The man with the mask?
Cora's eyes dart as she searches her memory.
Then, she shakes her head.
I don't know.
Inkblots swirl across a cream colored background.
The images rush forward in a kaleidoscope of moving shapes,
growing darker until blue letters appear over watercolor eyes.
The Sinner. Description by CaptionMax.
Detective Farmer leads Cora up the basement stairs
and another Officer cuffs her hands behind her back.
I'm gonna find a witness who was there.
Now we have a motive and you have a defense.
Ok. Come on. You're gonna be ok.
Farmer marches Cora outside
and a victorious smile spreads across Harry's face.
He starts to follow, then turns back.
Now, in the basement...
I don't see why this is necessary.
A club manager and receptionist watch unhappily
as Officers pry wood paneling off the walls.
They move a panel aside and Harry
and Harry inspects the wood frame and brick behind it.
He turns to the manager...
Was there ever any wallboard in this room?
Any wallpaper? No.
No, it's been the same since I started here.
The detective nods to himself.
Now at the station, Harry slides a picture onto Dan's desk.
Just saw his wife.
Todd Ritger died 2 years ago, kidney cancer.
Ok. He could still be our masked man though, right?
July 5th, 2 days after the basement business,
Ritger whisked his wife off to the Caribbean to renew their vows.
They stayed a month.
Aw, shit.
Ok.
That's our last chance.
Maybe the two guys knocked off Lambert
'cause he knew something.
Already on it. The car was stolen in Trenton,
so I had the Tow Interchange do a video match on the license plate.
Good.
Dan smiles and drops the picture back onto Harry's desk.
Harry looks up at him.
Thanks.
Don't mention it.
They both turn back to their computers.
In jail, inmates chat around table
while Cora sits alone in her cell.
She remembers the masked man looming over her.
Tell me.
He holds a syringe.
Tell me.
I don't remember.
Good girl.
He injects her and a dazed Cora shuts her eyes in relief
At the station, Farmer reviews a file with Harry.
A lot of DNA in that basement,
none of it Cora Tannetti's.
We did get a DNA match on the body, though.
It actually is Phoebe Lacey.
That's not enough but we'll find something, though.
Thanks.
Tollbooth got a hit. Called Albany Vice.
They know the guy on the right. Daniel Boroughs, aka Duffy.
Did you get an address?
No, but Duffy rented a 15 passenger van 2 days ago on his MileagePlus card.
Let's put out an APB. Yeah.
Did that already, too.
Harry grabs his keys.
Caitlin drives her patrol car through town.
Code 5 on a white, late-model multi-passenger van:
license plate 7-Gary-6-0-2-4.
Vehicle spotted at 3-3-4-2, Route 9.
4-5 is en route.
On a side street lined with shabby businesses and homes,
Caitlin watches from her parked car
as a man wearing a hoodie leaves a white van.
He walks into a shop and she picks up her radio.
Suspect has entered a storefront.
The sign outside says American Medical Clinic.
Harry pulls up beside her in an unmarked car
and rolls his window down.
Is he still in there? Yes, sir...
and I'm not sure what's going on.
I'm waiting for backup.
Harry shoots her a determined look,
then drives forward and parks along the curb.
He gets out of his car and ambles across the street toward the clinic.
Caitlin watches him apprehensively.
God damn it.
Harry pauses to read the words
"Cash Only" on the glass door, then steps inside.
Middle-aged women fill out forms at a reception desk,
while a row of young, dark-haired women.
sit in the sparse waiting room
They shift their eyes away from Harry as he passes them.
At the back of the room, the guy wearing a hoodie sits at a desk.
He notices Harry.
Hey, this is a private business, you gotta leave.
Ok.
What kind of business you got here?
Dude, I just said get the hell out of here.
Alright, ladies, the bus is leaving.
Duffy?
A man with dreadlocks pauses by the door.
Daniel Boroughs?
He nods, glancing to his accomplice,
as he backs toward the door.
They both take off in opposite directions
and Harry pursues Duffy into the street.
The fleeing man whips out a gun and aims at Harry.
Duffy drops to the pavement, revealing Caitlin
with her gun trained on him. She glances at Harry
and he gives her a nod.
Another Officer hurries over to Duffy and kicks his gun away
before crouching to check for a pulse.
Clear here!
Clear over here.
Dispatch, we've got shots fired...
Broadway and Division.
The Officer steps away from Duffy's body
as blood pools on the pavement.
Harry works his jaw.
An interrogation? No.
So you take the girls to the clinics.
They get their prescriptions, then you drive them to the pharmacies.
They get 50 bucks and we get the bottle.
Who writes the scrips? J.D.
He's the one with the license number.
So why kill him? I didn't kill anybody.
That was Duffy.
He got nervous.
J.D. being picked up, then his woman getting busted,
Thought J.D. was gonna use him as a bargaining chip.
Alright. And then, so... He's lying!
Harry leans closer.
Who hired you?
What? To kill J.D.
Look, I told you I didn't kill him.
Was it somebody at the Beverwyck Club?
The what club? Harry!
We're done.
The detective gathers up his files.
Harry nods to him, then rubs his forehead in frustration.
Now, Farmer paces through the empty bullpen
to find Harry at his desk, staring off.
You get any leads on Cora Tannetti from our suspect?
Nope. 3 doctors, California, Texas, Ohio...
each defrauded of their license number in the past month.
That's it.
Well, you busted a local opioid ring.
So that's something to be proud of on a Tuesday.
Look, I'm sorry the Tannetti angle didn't work out.
He spins around to face her.
It was still good police work.
There's a connection there.
Has to be.
He turns back to his paperwork while Farmer studies him silently.
Now, he meets with Cora in jail.
I'm still looking.
It's just I thought that those 2 guys were
gonna be the missing piece but they weren't...
and I...
let's just go through it all again and
something will come up, I'm sure.
Why can't we just tell Judge Baird
what happened to me?
We need a witness
or your story doesn't hold up.
My sentencing is tomorrow.
I know.
He shifts his gaze away from her.
I'm sorry.
Harry leans back against the cinder block wall.
Now, Cora sits alone at a table while other inmates mill around her.
Tannetti!
Visitor.
Cora walks into the Visitation Room, where inmates and family members
sit across from each other at long tables.
She scans the room and then takes a seat.
She slowly raises her eyes to her mother,
watching her from across the table.
I didn't think you would come.
Elizabeth averts her gaze and swallows.
Your father convinced me.
A blue stripe runs down the table between them.
I want to tell you what happened to Phoebe.
So?
I took her out that night, and I don't regret it
Because she met a boy and she fell in love.
They danced, they had sex
And she died in his arms,
exactly the way that she wanted.
You're disgusting.
I've never seen her happier than that night.
Phoebe was buried in the woods,
in the dirt, alone.
Was that what she wanted?
Why didn't you call the police when we didn't come home?
Why didn't you look for us?
We thought you ran away.
You think I didn't hear you whispering about Florida?
Planning your escape, like I was some sort of monster?
Turning Phoebe against me?
We just wanted to live.
That's all it was.
And look at you now,
Just look what you've done to yourself.
I'm more free now than I ever was with you.
The 2 women stare each other down across the table
and Elizabeth bows her head.
Now, in court...
Cora Tannetti murdered a perfect stranger without provocation.
We see no need not to prosecute to the fullest extent of the law.
Ms. Hutchins, does your client wish to address the court?
No, your Honor.
Cora rises. In the gallery,
Harry narrows his eyes as she faces the judge.
I would give anything to go
back to that day on the beach and undo all of this.
Mason sits frozen as he watches her.
She glances back to Frankie's parents
and a tear slips down her cheek.
I'm sorry that I took your son from you.
I am not a killer.
That is not who I am.
Harry tilts his head back.
Cora turns to the judge with a pleading look.
But somebody took my sister and buried her in the woods,
and they kept me in a room for months
and I don't even know what they did to me
and they're out there! Mrs. Tannetti!
They are still out there.
Mrs. Tannetti, I realize that this is an emotional moment,
but you've waived your right to a trial.
I'm sorry, I can't consider your defense here.
Cora blinks tearfully at her, then sinks back down
Behind her, the onlookers shift in their seats.
Later, Cora stands before Judge Baird.
While the defendant has pled guilty and shows remorse for her crime,
a realistic course for her rehabilitation is unclear.
In order to effectuate justice for the victim and his family,
I hereby sentence the defendant, Cora Elizabeth Tannetti,
to be remanded to the Department of Corrections
for a minimum sentence of 30 years.
Cora shuts her eyes and Mason bows his head.
That concludes these proceedings. All rise.
As the rest of the people in the courtroom get to their feet,
Harry remains seated, gritting his teeth.
Mason stands and Cora looks back at him
as an Officer takes her arms.
The Officer leads her away and Mason tracks them
with a numb expression.
He stiffly joins the throng of people moving toward the door.
Harry glances at him, then stares ahead, frowning.
Now, Cora shuffles down a prison hallway in a row of other inmates
Carrying a pillow and sheets,
she follows them through a gate with her wrists and ankles shackled.
n Officer leads Cora along a row of cells.
A door rattles open and Cora trudges inside.
She sets her things on the bed and the door slides closed behind her.
A view through a narrow hatch in the door
shows her sitting wearily on the bed.
Then, the hatch slams shut.
Harry stands on a grassy slope and gazes over a lake.
Sitting under a tree, he narrows his eyes.
At dusk, a view of the town's glowing Main Street
comes into focus.
At the precinct, Harry studies a wall of evidence in a conference room.
Dan leans against the doorway.
Harry. Yeah?
Why don't you come over and have dinner with us tonight?
Working on my osso buco.
No, thanks. I'm good.
You go ahead.
Dan heaves a sigh and slips away.
Now, Harry sits at his desk across from a balding man.
This is the fourth goddamn barbecue they've stolen.
Who's they? Junkies!
How do you know they're junkies?
Because
who else would steal a friggin' barbecue 4 times in a row?
Can you describe your barbecue for me, sir?
Yeah. It's a Napoleon.
Stainless steel... ah, with a side burner.
Side burner.
At the prison,
Mason heads into a visitation room with a group of other visitors.
From a table, Cora spots him and rises,
then sees her son with him.
She jogs toward them and Lane runs to meet her.
Hey! Hey, honey.
She scoops him into her arms
Hey, baby. You're so big.
Blinking back tears,
she cradles his head and locks eyes with Mason.
He gives her a gentle smile and rubs her arm.
Cora shuts her eyes, breathing deeply.
There you are.
Now, Lane colors.
Look what I do to do that sideways.
You can do whatever you want.
I cannot get enough to watch this.
His teacher said that he's doing really good in school now...
That his spelling is good. His handwriting is good.
He doesn't really like listening to authority.
which I thought sounded kind of familiar.
Lane snaps a crayon.
Again. It's ok.
Cora's smile fades and she looks down.
Is it a good idea to be bringing him here?
And I just don't want to hurt him any more than I already have.
No, it's a good idea.
He needs his mom.
But if it's easier to move on...
for him, for both of you.
He shakes his head.
We're gonna come back next week,
and every Thursday after that.
That's what we're gonna do.
He gives her a reassuring nod.
Ok?
A tear slips down Cora's cheek as she stares at him in disbelief.
Then, she covers her mouth
and her eyes tenderly search his face.
In town, Harry uses a key
to slice through a seal on the American Medical Clinic door.
He unlocks it.
Inside, Harry scans the paper-strewn Reception Desk,
ad tilted travel posters adorning the walls.
He steps toward the back
where the second desk sits in front of a tropical mural.
He flicks his eyes over the wall and moves away,
then pauses.
Turning back, he studies peeling block letters on the mural that read:
"Plan your winter getaway".
Harry zeroes in on the word winter
and a crease forms between his brows.
Now, he sits on the front steps of a brick house, waiting.
He gets up as he spots a blonde woman
pushing a stroller down the sidewalk.
Miss Beecham, I'm Detective Lieutenant Harry Ambrose.
This must be Winter.
I'm not Miss Beecham anymore. Maddie Beecham?
You're a hard woman to find.
But there's only 1 other baby named Winter on the birth registry.
It's up in Buffalo, so I thought I'd try here first.
She wheels the stroller past him.
Can I help you?
You know we opened a missing persons file on you.
Can I ask you why you left and changed your name?
She sets a bag of groceries on the porch and turns to face him.
I was in a toxic relationship.
J.D. Lambert.
She nods.
You were at the Beverwyck Club on July 3rd, 2012.
Miss Beecham?
You were there with Cora Lacey and her sister, Phoebe.
What do you remember about that night?
J.D. and I had a fight and I left before everyone else.
I got on a bus the next morning to my cousin's, to Vermont.
Her eyes flick downward.
I had to get away from him.
Harry studies her thoughtfully.
Did you ever hear from J.D. after that night?
He, he wouldn't stop calling.
He threatened me,
said that he would find me, and then he apologized and
asked me to be part of a new business opportunity.
What kind of opportunity?
He was selling oxy.
J.D.'s selling pills.
His jaw goes slack and he peers up at Maddie.
It started after that night?
She nods grimly and Harry looks away, considering.
That night, in the darkened station,
Harry sits alone at his computer.
Now, he makes a call from the Beverwyck Club.
Hello, Doctor's office.
Dr. Strauss, please. Who's calling?
Detective Ambrose, from Dorchester, New York.
Let me see if he's available. Thank you.
He gazes at the entrance to the basement.
Later, he drives through the woods.
Judge Diana Baird opens her office door and a couple steps out.
Thank you. Thanks, Your Honor.
She freezes as she spots Harry.
Hello, Harry.
She steps back to let him into the office.
In prison, a guard cuffs Cora's hands through the hatch in her door.
She blinks as the door slowly slides open.
Now in a car, Cora watches trees roll past her window.
The driver steers past a row of police cars
parked in front of a sprawling brick house.
Cora sees Harry talking to an officer in the front yard.
As the car pulls up the driveway,
Harry strides over to meet it.
He smiles at Cora through the window and she peers up at him.
Now, an officer opens the house's front door for Harry and Cora,
then steps back.
Cora walks inside,
her hands cuffed in front of her and Harry follows.
I hope you recognize this place.
I have a right to call my lawyer.
Sir, we're asking you step outside.
No. I won't step out.
Frankie's parents stare in shock as they see Cora in the hallway.
It's ok. Go ahead. Take a look around.
Cora glances back at the couple, then turns away toward a Dining room
She peers into it before continuing down the hall.
Harry shoots a warning look at Frankie's parents,
then follows Cora.
In the kitchen, she studies dark wood cabinets
and gleaming counter tops.
Harry watches her as her eyes scan the room from floor to ceiling.
She treads up a stairway carpeted with a patterned runner.
On the landing, she pauses before a guilded mirror.
then opens a door to her left.
An airy bedroom with a chandelier spreads out before her.
She turns in place before stepping back into the hall.
She locks eyes with Harry, crestfallen.
In the master bedroom, she stands before a king-sized bed.
Golden curtains frame the windows behind her.
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing his lip,
then glances over his shoulder, down the hall.
He trails behind Cora as she enters a modest guest room.
A floor lamp glows beside a bed heaped with embroidered pillows.
In a small alcove, an old fashioned love seat
rests under a window with sunlight filtering through the blinds.
Cora steps slowly toward the alcove,
her gaze fixed on an oval spot of light on the wall.
She gently runs her fingers over the curve of light,
then presses her palm against it.
She moves her hand over the smooth surface toward the corner,
where the edge of the pale wallpaper bubbles up.
Cora's fingertip catches on it and her eyes grow hopeful.
She carefully grips the wallpaper's edge and peels it back.
A dark, intricate pattern slowly reveals itself.
She takes hold of the peeling wallpaper with both hands
and continues to pull it away.
Behind her, Harry takes a shuddering breath.
Cora's eyes well up as she watches the light paper give way
to the design from her flashbacks.
She releases the torn wallpaper and a tear slips down her cheek.
At night, Frankie's father gets a call from his son.
Hello. Dad?
He sits up in bed with a frown.
Something terrible has happened. Where are you?
His wife rolls over.
What?
Yeah, I know. Hold on, I'll be right there.
What's wrong?
Oh, boy!
He gets out of bed, leaving her staring after him.
His car's headlights speed down a tree-lined road.
then turn through the gates of the Beverwyck.
Now, he hurries into the basement.
Frankie?
His son huddles on the floor.
Dad.
Cora lies unconscious, nearby.
You alright?
Wasn't my fault.
His father spots Phoebe's still form and checks for a pulse.
What happened? I don't know, umm...
She had, like, a heart attack.
I tried to do CPR, but she just broke.
Dr. Belmont kneels beside Cora.
This girl has a pulse!
Yeah, she freaked out.
She attacked Frankie. She attacked me.
Who is this?
J.D., he's a...
he's a friend.
We have to get her to the hospital.
Frankie, they're gonna tell the police.
It was an accident. Yeah?
You want to try to convince them of that?
You go to the police, I'm gonna tell them exactly what happened.
And what is that?
That your son was balls deep in this very sick girl,
both of them high on pills when she died.
Maybe that's an accident, maybe not.
All I know is, it doesn't look good.
Dr. Belmont considers J.D., then nods.
Frankie, go home.
Take your car and drive straight home.
What are you gonna do? Go! Just go!
He pulls Frankie to his feet and the young man pauses.
Go.
He shoves him and Frankie stumbles away.
As Dr. Belmont leans over to examine Cora's head wound,
J.D. takes a drag on a cigarette.
Later, they drive through the woods to the rusted-out school bus.
J.D. parks and drops the tailgate on his truck.
Wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket, Cora groggily rolls over.
Beyond the glow of their flashlights,
she see the water tower in the distance.
Now, she lies on the ground beside Phoebe,
as J.D. and Dr. Belmont dig a hole.
Alright, that's good enough.
They haul Phoebe's body toward the grave
and Cora twitches in her cocoon of blankets
as her sister rolls over the edge.
She struggles to sit up.
Now get out of here. I'll take care of the rest.
Whatever you say, man.
Dr. Belmont looks over at her as she tries to drag herself away.
Her eyes focus on the school bus
Frankie's father stalks after her
and J.D. starts to get into his truck
He pauses, watching Cora writhe on the ground.
Dr, Belmont raises his shovel above her head and grits his teeth.
He lowers it, trembling.
Now, daylight streams through the windows of his house.
Cora lies on the floor, as he tends to her injuries.
His wife strips off rubber gloves.
I want her out of this house. We can't do that.
You can drop her at the hospital.
You want to talk to the police about last night?
Then what the hell do you intend to do with her?
Frankie walks in and freezes.
Oh, my God.
Don't look at this. The less you know, the better.
Get him ready. Ready for what?
You're flying back to L.A. today.
Come on. Let's get you in the shower.
Come on.
Later, Cora lies in the guest bedroom,
her head bandaged with gauze.
The patterned wallpaper darkens the walls around her.
Dr. Belmont slips in wearing a ski mask and latex gloves.
How you feeling today?
He unwraps the bandage.
Easy.
It's ok.
Shh.
He inspects the stitches on her scalp,
then ties a rubber strip around her upper arm.
Cora's vision blurs as he injects her.
Cora's taut expression relaxes and she gazes at the wallpaper.
The pattern fades out.
Dr. Belmont steps into a hall covered in the same wallpaper
and locks the door behind him.
He pulls off the ski mask and his shoulders sag.
He opens the front door to find J. D. waiting on the dark porch.
What the hell are you doing here?
I'm just checking in,
making sure everything was good on your end.
He peeks inside.
And wanted to ask you something.
A favor.
In the master bedroom, Dr. Belmont finds his wife,
flipping through channels.
Weather is making news tonight, a warm...
Still nothing? No.
Poor girl.
Her poor parents.
Once she's healed, I'll drop her somewhere.
Maybe she won't remember.
Military's oldest medal...
What if she does?
The light from the television flickers over his face.
Now, he injects Cora's scabbed inner arm.
Ow!
He roughly digs the syringe into her elbow.
Ow.
Wearing the mask, he brushes Cora's long hair.
Her hand trembles, as she reaches toward a syringe on a metal tray.
Tell me what you remember.
Her fingertips brush the edge.
He slides the tray out of her reach.
Please.
Tell me what you remember.
As she lies in bed, he sponges down her bare back.
A set of new clothes sit folded on a bedside table.
Later, an elderly man pauses in an alley.
Cora sprawls on the pavement in front of him,
dressed in the new clothes.
You alright?
Her head twitches and she opens her eyes.
Where am I?
In the Belmonts' guest room...
Those stolen license numbers,
they were all from colleagues of Dr. Belmont.
J.D. was blackmailing him all along.
Cora turns away from the exposed strip of patterned wallpaper
and Harry guides her downstairs.
She pauses in the doorway of a sitting room,
where Caitlin and Dan watch over Frankie's parents.
Dr. Belmont glances over his shoulder at Cora
and she slowly steps toward him.
He rises from his seat and the Officers shift.,
as Cora searches his face.
It was you.
His eyes flicker over her as he opens and shuts his mouth.
I remember your eyes.
He averts his gaze as a look of shame creases his face,
Cora steps closer,
peering at him with a gentle expression.
I know you did it for your son.
He chokes back tears.
His shoulders shake and he lowers his head.
I'm... I'm so sorry.
Cora studies him for a moment,
then turns away and steps past Harry.
He follows her outside, where 2 Officers wait on the porch.
They straighten up and rest their hands on their weapons.
It's ok. I got her. Thanks.
They start down the sidewalk and Cora gazes straight ahead,
sunlight illuminating her flowing hair.
In the car, she sits in the passenger seat
while Harry drives.
He chews his lip, as trees slip past,
reflected in the car's windows.
You know, when I first interviewed you at the station,
the way you were blaming yourself...
I realized it felt familiar...
Because I do that too.
He glances over at her, working his jaw.
Cora studies him for a moment, then turns to face forward.
But the thing is, you're...
What somebody did to us when we were young,
I know it wasn't our fault.
I know we didn't do anything wrong.
Harry grimly watches the road ahead,
his lips pressed into a thin line.
But somehow, I...
I don't know what to do with it all.
Cora turns to met his gaze.
She keeps her wide eyes fixed on him
and Harry turns back to face the road.
Now in court, Cora sits beside her lawyer.
And he leaves her in a back alley in Poughkeepsie
as if she were a bag of trash.
From that moment forward, Cora goes through life believing
not only that she is a heroin addict,
but that she's responsible for her sister's death.
Despite all of this, despite all of the abuse
by Patrick Belmont, by J.D. Lambert,
by her own family,
does she give up?
No. No.
She gets cleaned,
she gets married, she has a beautiful son,
she lives a normal life, free of violence, free of her past,
until one happy day at the beach with her family,
she sees Frankie Belmont sitting on the towel next to hers.
And that's when it all comes rushing back.
Cora peers at Judge Baird, who steeples her fingers.
This is a unique moment in my time in this privileged position.
Given this new evidence, I find that the defendant, Cora Tannetti,
acted under the influence of extreme emotional disturbance.
I hereby reduce the conviction from murder in the second degree
to manslaughter in the first degree,
and rather than spend another day in prison,
I hereby order Mrs.Tannetti
to be transferred to a secure psychiatric facility.
Her case will be reviewed every 2 years,
with the possibility of release if she's determined
no longer to be a danger to herself or others.
Please rise.
Cora's shoulders sag in relief and she shares a smile with her lawyer.
She turns to Mason, who stands behind her in the gallery
They lock eyes and he releases an extended breath.
She smiles at him, her eyes gleaming with tears.
and they trade a nod before the Officers lead her away.
Across the room, Dan wraps an arm around his partner's shoulder.
What? Proud of you.
He slaps Harry's back and strides away.
Now, Cora's hands are cuffed to her belt,
as an Officer follows her down a cinder block hallway.
In the lobby, Harry paces, then looks up as Cora is led out to him.
She gazes at him and
Harry studies her before breaking into a slow grin.
You look happy...
maybe.
Yeah.
They both look down at the floor.
2 years, I bet, and you're out.
I'll check in on you from time to time,
make sure they're treating you right.
Cora smiles and blinks back tears.
It's gonna be ok.
Thank you.
He nods uncomfortably.
He drops his gaze. Cora considers for a moment,
then steps forward and rests her head on his shoulder.
Harry glances at the Officer, then wraps an arm around her.
He rubs her back and pulls her into a tighter embrace,
as her lips tremble.
Harry leans his head against hers.
He squeezes her shoulder, then pulls back.
Cora straightens up and meets his gaze.
Her eyes flickering with hope, she starts toward the door.
An Officer opens it for her, while another follows behind her.
Before stepping outside, Cora glances over her shoulder at Harry.
He watches as she continues forward,
her image reflected in the glass door.
Cora climbs into a van and Harry releases a breath, turning away.
Outside, Cora's lawyer speaks with the press.
We're very pleased with the ruling.
The court recognized that Mrs. Tannetti's actions
were not with intent to harm, but the result of psychological trauma.
We'll be making sure that she is given adequate care
and is released as soon as possible.
We would like to give the Tannetti family
appropriate space and time to process these developments.
Harry strides past the group of reporters toward the parking lot.
He slides into his car and rests his hand on the steering wheel,
his eyes reflected in the rear view mirror
The focus shifts,
blurring the mirror and bringing his profile into sharp relief.
He stares ahead, past the camera flashes of the reporters.
Then his hand twitches.
Harry lifts it off the steering wheel,
to gaze at his bruised fingernail.
Transcribed by Uncle Andy