written by Alejandro Amenábar
Grace: At first I could not understand...what the pillow was doing in my hands...or why you didn't move. But then I knew. It had happened. I had killed my children. (inhales) I got the rifle. I put it to my forehead. Then I pulled the trigger. Nothing. (beat) Then I heard your laughter in the bedroom. Ahh. You were playing with the pillows as if nothing had happened. And I thought...the Lord in His great mercy was giving me another chance, telling me "Don't give up. Be strong. Be a good mother. For them." But now...now...what does all this mean? Where are we?
Mrs. Mills: (appearing from around a corner) Young Lydia said the very same thing when she realized the three of us were dead. And that was the last time she ever spoke. But I couldn't tell you that before now. Shall I make us a nice cup of tea, ma'am?
(Grace smiles and nods)
Mrs. Mills: The intruders are leaving. But others will come. Now, sometimes we'll sense them. Other times...we won't. But that's the way it's always been. Ma'am. (exits)
Nicholas: Mummy? Daddy died in the war, didn't he?
Nicholas: Will we ever see him again?
Grace: I don't know.
Ann: If we're dead, where's limbo?
Grace: I don't know if there even is a limbo. I'm no wiser than you are. But I do know that I love you. I've always loved you. And this house is ours. You say it with me. This house is ours. This house is ours. This house is ours.
(They all repeat this phrase as the scene fades out)
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