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INT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY
Sunlight comes through the soot on the windows, more brown than
bright. SOMERSET, 45, stands in one corner of this small,
second-story room. He looks over the ceiling, looks down at the
worn wooden floors, looks at the peeling wallpaper.
He walks to the center of the room, continues his study, taking
his time. He halts, turns to one wall where the current
wallpaper is torn away to reveal flowery wallpaper underneath.
Somerset goes to this wall and runs his finger across one of the
pale, red roses which decorates the older paper. He pushes the
grime away, brings the rose out more clearly.
He reaches into his suit pocket and takes out a switchblade. He
flips the thin, lethal blade free. Working deliberately,
delicately, Somerset cuts a square around the rose, then peels
the square of dry wallpaper away from the wall. He studies it in
EXT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY
Somerset stands in front of the old home. He looks out at the
surrounding farms and forests. He ponders something. Birds
Is something wrong?
Somerset does not respond, just stares off. The MAN, 34, wears a
real-estate broker's jacket and stands beside a FOR SALE sign in
the muddy lawn.
Is there something the matter?
Somerset turns to face the man, then looks back at the house.
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