Chorus Page #4

He didn't leave a note.

We presume it's linked

to your son's murder.

Life inside was rough after his confession.

We'll pursue the investigation,

but there'll be no trial.

Can we see the tape of his confession?

Yes, that's permitted.

We can do that later.

It has to be today.

I'm returning to Mexico for good.

I need the Crown's approval.

Is that long?

No, I can get it by phone.

But I have to warn you,

it may be hard to watch.

You can go. This is for me.

I have to put it behind me.

I know you...

- No, I'll stay.

What did the other prisoners do to him?

How old did you say he was?

Eight.

His name was Hugo.

After...

After that it's a blackout.

What do you mean?

I can't remember the rest.

It's all mixed up.

Go on,

try to remember.

I remember the cartoons.

We're at home.

Everything's shut.

The doors, blinds, curtains,

but the TV's always on.

Cartoons. Just cartoons.

There's food on the floor.

It's a mess.

At first,

I liked looking after him,

helping with schoolwork,

cooking for him,

giving him his bath, going to bed.

But then the kid stopped eating.

Didn't want me to teach him,

wouldn't play with me.

He just wanted to sleep.

He turned white as a cauliflower.

He had trouble breathing.

I didn't like it.

It was becoming ugly.

I didn't want that.

I hate ugliness.

I wanted him to stay beautiful,

like the first time.

So...

I smothered him with a pillow.

He died peacefully.

I'd seen death before.

I was an ambulance technician.

What I did is wrong,

but that's the way it was.

Jean-Pierre...

You said you played with him.

- Yeah.

What did you play?

He looked like a boy on my hockey team.

In LaSalle. I used to coach.

I know.

What games, Jean-Pierre?

What do you think?

- I'm not here to think for you.

The game was called...

It was called Reward.

How does it go?

What do you think?

Come on, Jean-Pierre.

I was nice to him.

Know what that means?

Nice how?

- Why do you want to know everything?

I don't want to know,

I want to understand.

Kissing.

What kind of kissing?

The kissing that men like us enjoy.

What kind of kissing?

He sucked me. I came.

Then I'd give him affection.

His reward.

Christophe!

I imagined him growing up.

He'd be 18 today.

So did I.

It's normal, I think.

For 10 years,

I was the father

of an invisible child.

I should've followed you.

I should've gone with you to Mexico.

Or stopped you, I don't know.

We could've kept Hugo alive in us.

I could've loved you.

You could've consoled me.

Without expecting anything in return.

But now it's too late.

Irne.

Close that.

Just one more, OK?

If I'd gone to pick him up...

- Irne.

You were a wonderful mother.

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