Hello.
This is the beginning.
The beginning of a film called The Wonder.
The people you are about to meet,
the characters,
believe in their stories with complete devotion.
We are nothing without stories.
And so we invite you to believe in this one.
It is 1862.
We left England, bound for Ireland.
The Great Famine still casts a long shadow,
and the Irish hold England responsible for that devastation.
There sits a nurse.
An English nurse…
…traveling all on her own.
And it's with her, we begin.
You'll be the English nurse.
Will I?
Well, I'm due a nun and a nurse, and… …you're not the nun.
No.
-Maggie!
I thought I was lodging with the girl's family,
the O'Donnells.
Sorry to disappoint.
-No, no, I was ju-- -Sure, they'd have nowhere to put you.
The O'Donnells live beyond the village.
You and the nun are to lodge here.
Sorry, but why a nun?
-Welcome to Ireland. -Mm.
-Your room.
We'll see you at eight for breakfast.
Good morning.
Have you come to do some experiments on Anna?
No.
Do you know her?
Everyone knows everyone here, Mrs. Wright.
Ah.
We shared a desk at school.
Did you?
You've been blessed with many daughters, Mrs. Ryan.
Only that one's mine.
The other blessings belonged to the first Mrs. Ryan.
I'd call it "tricked."
Mrs. Wright,
the committee is waiting.
Let her have breakfast.
Please.
Thank you.
-The watch is to last two weeks. -It's been decided it's two weeks?
-Two weeks is too long. -It's important to be thorough.
The village is overwhelmed with sightseers and gawkers
coming to stare at the child.
And the newspapers.
When will we stop being made a mockery of thanks to someone's journalistic desires?
-It was a medical paper. -In a national newspaper.
May I ask, gentlemen?
No one has told me what precisely is wrong with the girl.
Nothing at all.
Very well.
I shall return to my post in England.
Anna O'Donnell doesn't eat.
If a patient in the hospital refuses to eat, we use force.
The girl is not to be forced.
Nor interrogated or badgered.
But she is also not to be denied food should she ask for it.
The girl has lived miraculously without food
since her 11th birthday.
"Miraculously" is not how she's done it.
The purpose of the watch is to determine
exactly how Anna O'Donnell has survived without food.
So you want us to watch her?
Yes.
We are proposing eight-hour shifts,
changing over at five in the morning,
one in the afternoon, and nine at night.
Does that suit you?
There is to be no conferring between the two of you.
On the 14th day,
you will each present your separate testimony.
How long exactly has it been since the last time the girl ate?
Four months.
That's impossible.
May I ask why not two nurses, Dr. McBrearty?
Sister Michael is the second nurse, Mrs. Wright.
The O'Donnell family drew some comfort in the idea of a nun,
as did some of the less
scientifically minded members of the committee.
And I assume she's bedridden?
Better not to assume.
Here we are.
-Dia duit. -Dia is Muire duit.
-Tar isteach.
-Morning, Doctor. -Morning, Rosaleen.
-Hello.
Hello.
-Doctor. -Thank you.
May I take your daughter's history, Mrs. O'Donnell?
Sure, what history could a child have?
She hasn't eaten in four months. Is that correct?
That is correct.
And would you describe her as healthy?
Well, she's a little delicate, perhaps.
But she never complains.
-And her appetite? -Never greedy.
May I see the girl, please?
She has visitors at the minute.
Visitors?
All the time.
-From all over.
Mr. O'Donnell.
How are you?
Doctor.
This is Mrs. Wright.
Fáilte romhat.
It means, "You're welcome here."
Thank you.
Perhaps…
I think the watch
may be more appropriately conducted in a hospital.
No.
You're not taking my wee girl away.
-Thank you.
-Uh, for your trouble.
-No trouble. -Well, something for the wee lass.
In the poor box, if you insist.
She's a jewel.
A wonder.
Thank you, Doctor.
Thank you, Nurse Wright.
…most precious cross, adorned by the tender, delicate,
and venerable members of Jesus my Savior,
sprinkled and stained with his precious blood.
Hello, Anna.
Hello.
My name is Elizabeth Wright. You may call me Mrs. Wright. May I?
Open, please.
Arms up.
Down.
Turn around.
Turn around again.
And eyes wide open.
You seem well, Anna.
Are you nervous at all?
Why should I be nervous?
Strangers…
such as myself.
Do you know why I'm here?
To make sure I don't eat.
I'm here to watch.
Not prevent you from eating.
Do you know the dangers of a prolonged fast, Anna?
I don't need to eat.
I live on manna.
From Heaven.
And how does that feel?
Full.
Your son is not home, Mr. O'Donnell.
Pat's gone over.
God keep him.
Have you no blessings of your own?
No.
Widowed.
We were married for less than a year.
I adore thee, O most precious cross,
adorned by the tender, delicate, and venerable members of Jesus my Savior,
sprinkled and stained with his precious blood.
Amen.
-Good evening, Sister. -Good evening.
Well?
I've been summoned all the way here…
-Sure, no one forced you. Another? -Aye, two more.
-To offer my professional opinion-- -You can give me your professional--
My professional opinion
on a girl who could be somehow having food secretly shoveled into her mouth.
Well, that sounds about right.
What kind of backwards village imports a professional nurse
for something like this?
"Backwards village." Didn't you nurse in the Crimea?
That's exactly my point, Mr. Ryan. This has nothing to do with nursing.
You're being paid handsomely to sit on your backside for a fortnight.
-I'll pay you to sit on my back-- -I'm warning you!
Prove it's nonsense, then.
Prove it's nonsense, then fuck off home.
I had his eyes painted on…
afterwards.
I misunderstood.
I thought your son had emigrated.
I need my children near.
I'm sorry.
The very best…
He takes early to be His angels.
Should we go back?
No.
Fresh air is good for your lungs.
Those are big boots.
They were my brother's.
Are you hungry?
Would you like some water?
Thank you.
-Any more? -No, thank you.
Who's that one?
St. Cecilia.
She's the patron of music.
She heard it playing in her heart.
Lucky one, St. Cecilia.
-St. Lucy.
Patron of the blind and protector of sight.
-St. Agnes, chastity and purity.
Who's your favorite?
Here, look.
The mystic marriage of St. Catherine and the baby Jesus.
He gave her a wedding ring, but only she could see it.º
Anyone can be chosen.
Saints or sinners.
Elizabeth of Hungary.
She was a widow.
Ah…
The very worst of sins.
No, not at all.
That's not what I meant.
I know.
Does your family call you… Elizabeth?
Or Eliza?
Or maybe Betty?
They don't call me anything.
I don't have a family anymore.
I'm sorry.
Doesn't look like a child who's not eaten in four months, does she?
Indeed.
How strongly the vital force burns.
Are you feeling well in yourself, Anna?
Very well, Father, thank you.
Good girl.
Hold still.
One,
two,
three,
four…
What if Anna is drawing on some nutritive force
we don't yet understand?
Such as?
Well… magnetism, perhaps?
Molecules of scent?
-Anna is bothered by visitors constantly.
For a serious study, we need quiet and isolation, Doctor.
Doctor.
Are you eating for the patient as well as yourself?
That was rude.
I'm sorry.
Will Byrne, Daily Telegraph.
Over from London.
Like you.
I was hoping for an interview with the miracle girl herself.
She is not taking visitors.
Doctor's orders.
And who gives him his?
He started this whole thing off, the good doctor.
-I'm writing a big piece about the girl.
-Just doing my job. -Hmm.
And I, mine.
Perhaps I could interview you instead?
The Nightingale who's come to watch over her.
I would never speak about a patient.
And certainly not to a journalist.
I'll have you know, I've written for dozens of publications, all over.
So you'd write anything for a shilling.
What else has brought you across the sea to play jailer to a child?
Kitty.
What was the last thing Anna ate?
Do you remember?
The flesh of our Savior.
Her birthday and her Holy Communion were on the same day.
It was a blessed day.
So just water and wheat?
No, missus, not just water and wheat.
It's the body and blood of Christ.
That's a story, Kitty. I'm looking for facts.
I'm sorry.
I didn't…
It's what I'm here for.
-To tell the difference between-- -I dig up turf, and you dig up the truth.
That's exactly right.
You see, you also need your stories.
You write them down in that little notebook of yours.
Thank you.
It's quite the bible you got going.
Hello again, I told you we are nothing without stories.
Father Thaddeus dropped it by.
-He said you'd asked for a lamp.
-I did. -Amen.
Candlelight is not half bright enough for a watch.
Sweet dreams, pet.
And it's important we stay alert, Sister.
-It runs on burning fluid. -Sleep sound.
-Good night. -And you have to keep the wick trimmed.
-Night, Mammy. -I'm sure I'll manage.
-Oíche mhaith, Anna. -Good night, Kitty.
Will you be able to sleep with the light on, Anna?
Yes, thank you, Miss…
Betsy?
It's Nurse Wright to you, missy.
-Anything? -We're not to confer.
Good night, Anna.
Night, Sister.
-Oh.
…sprinkled and stained with his precious blood.
Amen.
Good morning, Anna.
Good morning…
Lily?
If you make up names for me, I'm gonna have to do the same for you.
Good morning…
Lizzie?
Should I call you Annie?
Or Annabelle?
Hannah, perhaps?
But then I'd be someone else,
not me.
Nancy.
Or Nan.
Nan. I like Nan.
Well, Nan…
I owe you an apology.
-Last night…
I knocked over one of your treasures, and I'm sorry.
Is the lock of hair your brother's?
You must miss him.
I know your mother misses him terribly.
Sorrow is God's spade.
What does that mean?
It readies the ground.
Can I tell you something?
My mother used to call me Lib.
-Lib. -Mm-hmm.
Mrs. Lib.
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
-Blessed art thou amongst women… -Have you seen anything?
-There's been nothing to see.
Right.
Morning, sweetheart.
Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom…
Mrs. Lib?
Yes?
Is it true you went to war?
Yes. Turn around. Sit down, please.
What was it like?
It was difficult.
I was tending to soldiers.
Men who'd seen awful things.
Who'd done awful things.
Were they very sick?
Some of them were, yes.
But…
it's a great privilege…
being with people at the end.
They talk.
They tell their stories.
Open.
The souls in Purgatory have to be burned for a while,
to clean them.
But the souls in Hell have to be burned forever.
Surely your brother's in Heaven, Anna?
We can't know that, Mrs. Lib.
I'd assumed you'd be on your way back to London by now.
If only.
My editor demands daily dispatches on this matter of international import.
All I can currently supply is satirical speculation.
I must beg for your help again.
Ask the nun.
If she sees me, she'll take the rod to me. I've sinned too much. It shows.
It would make a good story though.
Are they making money out of her?
Straight in the poor box.
Money for the Church, then.
Not enough to be worth this much effort.
The doctor? Making his name?
No. He admires her "vital force."
What about Flynn? He owns their house and is the most fervent of them all.
He's obsessed with her being a miracle child.
He's never there, if that's what you mean.
Is it all the girl's doing?
I've watched her until my eyes burn.
These days, nothing but water has passed her lips.
She's an actress.
God bless the bed that I lay on.
As I lay down my head to sleep, I pray to God my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take.
Wake me now, wake me never. My soul…
From this point on, no one can come near her.
Save for myself and Sister Michael, no one can touch her.
-I must ask you to leave. -You can't do that.
Stand up. It's a requirement of the watch. Please leave.
We're wishing our daughter a good night.
You can do so from the stairs. Anna, over here.
-Sister Michael? -Are these Dr. McBrearty's orders?
-Mm-hmm. Move. -A mother's kiss is sacred.
Good night.
It's not for long.
What right does a stranger have to come between a child and its people?
There's no stew.
Oh.
-No problem. -I'll see what I have.
Thank you.
That's the nurse.
Ah.
Thank you for your help.
How is the wee faker?
She's not well.
But nor does she seem starving.
Of course not. She's being fed.
She's got some good tricks. Whose pawn is she?
I didn't think she'd hook you quite so easy.
She is sincere.
Come on.
Let me meet her.
Fresh eyes.
I could coax the truth out of your little saint in ten minutes.
You rate your powers highly.
I've forbidden the family from approaching her,
so the truth should come out soon.
By stopping the family, you're stopping the feeding.
This story of the little girl who won't eat becomes true.
She could die.
Unless they confess first.
If they confess, they'll be driven from their home,
excommunicated,
hauled in front of the judge for misrepresentation, concealment,
conspiracy to defraud.
Think the folk you've been spending all this time with would bear that well?
Thank you, Maggie.
-Hello, pet. -Hello.
-Hello, Anna. -Go upstairs, please, Anna.
-Go on. -It's all right, sweetheart.
Mrs. Wright, Rosaleen tells me you won't allow her
to be with her own child.
I'm sorry.
But for an objective report, no one can touch her.
You'll never understand.
My only concern, as the family's parish priest,
is for them to find peace.
So why would you allow this nonsense?
It's not your job to question us, Nurse.
You are here only to watch.
Then let me.
I adore thee, O most precious cross,
adorned by the tender, delicate, and venerable members of Jesus my Savior,
sprinkled and stained with his precious blood.
Amen.
Look up.
Look at me.
Open.
Spit it out.
It's all right. Spit it out.
Say hello to Will for me, will you?
Mr. Byrne? You know him?
I knew him when we were little.
And then he went to school and…
I didn't.
Ah.
He's a newspaper man now.
His family locked themselves up in their cabin.
After he went away.
When the hunger came,
they nailed the door shut from the inside.
Why did they do that?
Privacy.
Save themselves the shame of dropping down dead in the street.
No.
Remember me to him, will you?
-Mrs. Wright.
Mrs. Wright.
-What's the matter?
Kitty told me about your family. I didn't know. I'm sorry.
What about them?
Ah.
The most gory bit.
You weren't here.
You would have helped them if you were here.
Thank you.
No. Please. Thank you.
I thought you didn't like me.
I like who I like.
I had a baby.
She lived three weeks and two days.
I'm sorry.
Mm-hmm.
And your husband?
He vanished a few days after.
He may as well have died.
I adore thee, O most precious cross,
adorned by the tender, delicate, and venerable members of Jesus my Savior,
sprinkled and stained with his precious blood.
Amen.
Does Father Thaddeus make you say that every minute of the day?
Not Father Thaddeus.
Thirty-three times.
And why 33 times?
Our Lord's age. He rose again after three days.
-Ahh… -Three's a sacred number.
Is he a visitor, Mrs. Lib?
No, no.
That's my friend.
Morning, Anna.
I'm Will. This is Barry.
"There's not a kingdom through which I haven't traveled,
and, whether it be day or night, I pass unseen."
"What am I?"
Someone invisible,
who goes everywhere.
-Or something? -This girl needs no hints.
The wind?
Mr. Byrne has traveled to many kingdoms.
He's reported on Russia,
the Punjab, Egypt.
Have you seen the Sphinx of Giza?
Sat on her back too.
Seventy feet high.
Here.
What is it?
They call it a thaumatrope.
You have to twist the string between your thumb and forefingers.
-Is it trapped or is it free? -That's for you to decide.
Inside. Outside.
In. Out.
-In. Out.
In.
Out. In.
-"And…" -Out.
"…after my ssss…
skin has been…
des… des…"
Destroyed.
"…destroyed…
yet in my… fffl…"
Flesh.
"…flesh I will see God."
"I myself
will see him."
Mrs. O'Donnell…
you must see that Anna's getting weaker.
She's pale. She's tired.
She's been perfectly fine…
all these months till you kept her from us.
Mr. O'Donnell,
do you not want your daughter to get well?
More than anything.
Then ask her to eat.
She made me swear… on her birthday.
She made me swear…
never to ask her to eat again.
For my wife…
and my children.
It's my little ritual.
To remember them.
So…
Is she reporting any pain?
You know Anna never complains.
What if she's developed the capacity to convert sunlight into energy,
as plants do?
Anna is in danger.
The great discoveries of science,
from Archimedes to Newton,
have always seemed like black magic at first, have they not, Nurse?
It's not science. It's nonsense. Please. You need to stop the watch.
-Mrs. Wright-- -Anemia, dropsy, scurvy, pellagra--
You are a nurse.
Please, don't make a diagnosis.
You're paid to watch, not to intervene.
You're neither the girl's mother nor her physician.
You're overstepping, madam.
If Anna doesn't eat, she could die.
Please just do your job.
May I have something to eat, please?
We'll eat in a little while.
If she wants something to eat, she may have it.
There's soup on the side.
Soup would be lovely. Thank you.
-It's not hot. -That's fine.
Thank you, Kitty.
Mrs. Lib?
Open your mouth, please, Anna.
-If you won't eat, I have to use force.
-Mrs. Lib, no. No, please. -Open your mouth.
-Please, please, please. -Open your mouth. It will hurt otherwise.
-Open your mouth, Anna. -No. No. No, no.
Anna, please. Anna, down!
-Open. Open.
Anna, open!
Open.
Stop.
-I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
Anna?
-Is everything all right?
Everything's fine.
Are you all right?
-I think we should go back. -No.
-I want to show you something. -Another time, Anna. Come on.
Not you.
You.
Be ca-- Be careful, Anna.
-The Holy Well.
We used to come here when we were…
"Turn the pebbles in the…"
"Bullaun."
Bullaun.
"Rub a clootie on what hurts, and tie it to the May tree."
Yes.
"By the time it rots away,
your hurt will be gone."
Hmm.
I've submitted my article.
"Murder by Degrees."
You have to try with the other committee men.
-She's going to die. -Stop it.
Anna?
Anna, I'm here. I'm here.
Give her to me. Give her to me. You can't take her in. Come on, Anna.
-This has to end, Lib. -Come on.
Anna?!
Here she is. Here she is. Here she is.
It's just a faint, Mammy.
-Is there…
-Is there anything I can get you?
Nothin'?
Nothin' at all, Anna?
Just a little sleep, Mammy.
And then, I'll awake.
Then you'll wake.
How is she?
"Little A-Anna O'Donnell…
the last s-surviving child
of a humble bog man,
appears to need no more
n-nourishment than air."
-Best teacher I could have. -Why is she in that chair?
Dr. McBrearty brought it.
Borrowed it from Sir Otway.
Just till Anna's back on her feet.
Lean forward, please, Anna.
Breathe in.
And again.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
-Sit up. Up.
Squeeze my arm. Squeeze it.
-Thank you, Sister. -You're a little early.
-Anna. -Goodbye.
-Thank you. -Good day.
"Manna from Heaven."
You lived off manna from Heaven.
"A mother's kiss is sacred."
You don't understand us.
I don't, but…
I do understand
that your mother spat chewed-up food…
Manna from Heaven.
-…from her mouth… -From God.
-…in order to sustain you. -Manna.
Food, Anna.
Food.
'Twas a holy secret.
A mystery.
Anna…
Anna, I have to tell.
I have to.
It's what I'm here for, to find out the truth.
Then eat.
What if your mother could kiss you again?
What if…
What if God
could provide manna again?
Why won't you eat, Anna?
I adore thee…
O most precious cross…
adorned by the tender,
delicate, and venerable members…
Your prayer.
Thirty-three times.
Whilst fasting.
But to what end, Anna? What for?
One soul will be released.
Released?
From Hell.
Your brother?
H-- He must be so close now.
Anna,
fasting means skipping one meal, not all of them.
That's to atone.
I have to save him
from all of the burning.
He is burning all the time.
-No. -No, Mrs. Lib.
That's what hell is.
-No. -It's ceaseless.
-Anna, he was just a boy.
He was just a child. Why would he be burning?
What did he do?
He said it was double.
Double?
Double love.
A sister…
and a wife.
And I…
How old were you?
Nine.
Just the once?
Love is forever.
He told me like it was a story.
We married in the night.
And then he got sick.
It--
It wasn't holy. He was being punished.
And…
And Mammy said…
-That it was my fault he'd been taken. -No.
-No. That is not true.
-That is not true, Anna.
No.
I loved him back.
You have urgent information pertaining to the watch, Mrs. Wright?
I do.
Go ahead.
Anna O'Donnell is dying.
-Mrs. Wright-- -She can barely stand up.
She can barely move.
She's feverish, and her pulse rate quickens by the hour.
If you have medical concerns about the patient,
may I ask you come to me, rather than summoning everybody--
Our watch, sir, has thwarted the one thing that has kept her alive
for the past four months.
Go on.
Anna's mother, Mrs. O'Donnell,
has been passing her food from her own mouth.
She cups her face and kisses her good morning and good night,
and she feeds her daughter with each kiss.
Like a bird.
Now that you have the answer, I am begging you, you must stop the watch
and make every effort in keeping this girl from dying.
Lies.
I am not lying.
It was a mistake, a terrible mistake, to bring a nurse here.
An English nurse.
What reason would I have to lie?
"Murder by Degrees," Mrs. Wright.
Take that up with the journalist. She did not write that.
Well, how else did he catch a glimpse of the fasting girl?
Perhaps you should interrogate Mr. Byrne rather than me.
Stopped that little girl from seeing her own mother and father.
-But handed her over to some journalist. -I have only done as you have asked of me.
Sister Michael,
have you observed this practice between mother and child?
I…
have not, Sir Otway.
-There. Lies! -I'm not lying.
-She's making it all up. -I am not lying.
-She should not have come here. -I am telling you the truth.
Perhaps we might ask Anna herself.
Very well.
Bring the child in.
Come through.
There she is.
Anna…
Mrs. Wright has shared something with us
that she has observed
between you and your mother.
Does your mother feed you, Anna?
Pass food…
from her mouth to yours?
Let me ask a little more plainly, if I may.
Have you eaten anything
in the past four months, Anna?
Manna from Heaven.
That is all.
Well done, Anna.
You will carry on with the watch as planned, Mrs. Wright.
-Fools. -The watch will continue.
She just told us. She found the reason.
We all agreed to the watch,
and we shall see it through.
I will nurse her until she dies.
As I have done many times before.
I have nothing more to say.
I'll be offering a solemn Mass for you tomorrow night.
To pray for strength and hope
and for your recovery, Anna.
Thank you, Father.
-Good girl.
Good girl. All done.
-All done.
Lie back. Go on.
There you go.
-Close your eyes.
She's dying.
She's chosen.
She's not chosen. She's a child.
-You don't know us. -Wait.
I'm sure that's true in many ways.
And I'm sure there's much about your life that I don't understand.
But I do know grief
and loss.
And the pain of losing a child is something I do know.
I didn't…
Abandoning Anna to die when you could have prevented it
is a terrible thing.
This is for her salvation.
Perhaps you could kiss her good night again?
-Or good morning.
-Or goodbye-- -This life is so short, Mrs. Wright.
The next is for eternity.
My children… will be in Heaven.
-That's insane. -Ugh!
-That's insanity, Lib! -Fine. Don't help. That's fine.
-You can't take a child from its family. -They don't want her!
You've fundamentally misunderstood these people, my people.
That man loves her.
Love requires some action, some intervention, at some point.
-Not just standing by-- -His faith, his prayer, is his action.
-You don't understand-- -Perhaps. Yes, perhaps.
But this isn't some philosophical point that we can debate.
This is a child's life, and they are killing her.
You wrote so yourself. Or were you just lying?
-Her mother and father-- -Have failed her.
-That's not-- -Will you help me?
The family will be at Mass this evening. This is my last chance to help her.
To do something good here. Please.
The sun sets at nine. Will you come then to the well?
This could be something new for each of us.
A new story. A new life.
I don't want that.
I'm not asking you to fall in love with me.
I'm asking you to help and maybe…
maybe live a different way and find contentment in a different place.
No.
If you don't want to come…
I'd love you--
I want you to come.
But if you don't want to, can you just get us as far as Dublin?
Please. That's all. Nothing else.
It's not a small thing you're asking of me.
It's kidnapping, Lib. We'd end up in jail.
Don't you wish someone had fought for the lives of your family?
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Will, no. No. Please. Please, Will. Please. I'm sorry.
Anna.
Anna, I need you to wake up.
Anna.
Am I going to God's side?
Yes.
It's nearly time.
Anna's going to God.
Anna's going to die now.
What if…
once Anna dies…
you wake up.
A new little girl.
Nine years old.
Nothing bad has ever happened to this little girl.
What might her name be?
Hey?
Nan?
Nan.
Of course.
Anna's going to die.
Yes.
Anna's going to die,
but Nan is going to live.
It's time to go to God now, Anna.
It's all right.
It's all right. I'm here.
Close your eyes.
Go on.
Shh…
Go on.
There you go.
Goodbye, Anna.
Nan?
You can wake up now, Nan.
Nan?
Am I Nan?
Yes.
Yes, you are Nan.
It's all in here.
"8:22 p.m. Severe lung congestion."
"8:43 p.m. Delirium."
"8:49 p.m. Breathing distressed."
"Heartbeat irregular."
"8:57 p.m.
Death."
Now, what…
puzzles me is…
how did the cabin go up in flames…
Mrs. Wright?
I confess…
when she died, I was frantic.
When I tried to revive her,
m-my s…
The lamp…
My dress must have knocked it over.
You were hired to watch her,
and all you left us with was a pile of ash.
Not her bones even? How hard have they tried?
Difficulties compounded by heavy rain.
-Unbelievable. -The ruins will become a shrine.
Oh, stop with your nonsense, Flynn.
If there was a body to be cut open,
you'd have found a hungry child starved to death.
Nothing but holiness would you have found there.
Our first saint since the Dark Ages.
-Father, for goodness' sake. -Nothing has been proven, Flynn.
That is true.
Because this woman has destroyed any evidence of a miracle
by burning down the house.
-Jesus Christ. -Is that an accusation?
Of course it's an accusation.
-This is a matter for the police. -Enough.
The most pressing question,
a-- as I see it,
is how much liability could be attached to a nurse
acting in the capacity of a servant
to this committee?
You will remain here
until the head constable says you may go.
And it goes without saying
that you won't receive your payment.
Does it hurt?
Mm.
Awful.
That they allowed it to go on for so long.
That a little girl should die.
These men…
Can I…
Can I ask you something?
Mm-hmm.
Before I found you last night…
I believe I was granted…
a vision.
I was too uneasy to stay to the end of Mass, you see.
And on my way to the house,
I saw…
an angel
on horseback,
riding away with Anna.
Has she gone to a better place?
Can you promise me that?
I promise.
"So, f-for lack of a body,
the famous fasting girl
has been declared dead…
in absentia."
"There is no one to blame."
"No… blame… is ascribed
to the father… and mother
who… let the child…
waste away."
"Nor are any charges
to be laid against the aged physician
who deluded himself
that he had discovered the Fountain of Youth."
"Nor is the self-appointed committee
required to explain why they supervised the starvation
of one more Irish child."
"Perhaps it is not a village that gathers to grieve what it has lost
and repent its sins of omission,
nor a single nation."
"All over the empire,
are not children left to lie down and die in ditches and gutters
every night of the year?"
"It is a whole sorrowful world
that's too hungry to see the wonder
in every ordinary child."
Mrs. Lib?
Passengers for the SS Northumberland,
bound for Sydney!
-Open the gate.
-Names? -Uh, Elizabeth Cheshire.
C-H-E-S-H-I-R-E.
Wilkie Cheshire.
Your name?
It's all right, love. Go on.
Nan Cheshire.
-All right. This way. -Thank you.
Next.
In. Out.