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The Killing of a Sacred Deer Page #7
To be honest, she's got
feelings for him, too.
She thinks he's very nice hands.
Truth is, he has
beautiful hands.
All doctors have clean,
nice, beautiful hands.
So I told her, I said,
I've no problem with it
if you wanna go ahead.
I mean, he seems like a
nice guy, very nice guy.
And I don't wanna
get in the way of
her trying to get her
life back on track.
I'll be gone, I'll be gone in
a few years, I'll get a job.
If my husband made a mistake,
if out of negligence or,
I don't know what,
he caused this tragic
thing to happen,
I don't understand why I
should have to pay the price.
Why my children should
have to pay the price.
You know, not long after
my dad died, someone told me
that I eat spaghetti the
exact same way he did.
They said what an
extraordinary impression
this fact had made on them.
Look at the boy, look
how he eats spaghetti.
Exactly the same
way his father did.
He sticks his fork in.
He twirls it around, around,
around, around, around.
Then he sticks it in his mouth.
At that time, I thought
I was the only one
who ate spaghetti that way.
Me and my dad.
Later, of course, I found out
that everyone eats spaghetti
the exact same way.
Exact same way, exact same way.
This made me very upset.
Very upset.
Maybe even, um, more upset
than when they told
me he was dead.
My dad.
I don't know if what is
happening is fair, but
it's the only thing
I can think of
that's close to justice.
Time's getting on, and if I'm
late for class I'm done for.
(laughing)
Have a good day.
(ominous music)
[Ed] So I don't see any
reason for the children
to stay in the hospital.
[Steven] You mean
you think you've done
everything you can?
[Ed] Yes, Steven, I believe
we've done everything we can.
I'm sorry, but if I was
running this hospital,
I'd feel like a complete
failure, a loser.
I wouldn't be able
to sleep at night.
Goodnight, Anna.
Goodnight, Ed.
I suggest we sign the
release forms tomorrow
and they can go home.
(ominous music)
(horn blaring)
(sirens wailing)
Were you the anesthesiologist
for Jonathan Lang?
Thank you.
- Do you want...
- No, thank you.
Who's Jonathan Lang?
[Anna] Male, 46 years old.
Patient of Steven's, died
on the operating table.
[Martin] Anna, there
have been so many patients
over the years, so
many operations.
I don't remember him,
unfortunately, I'm sorry.
Can you find me his
file in the records
and show it to me, please?
I wanna see his medical
history and the cause of death.
[Martin] I don't think that's
possible, I'm sorry, Anna.
I can't just share
files from the hospital.
Why do you need it?
Please.
Look, I can't
give you the file
but I can tell you a couple
I remember him now,
I put him under.
But
what do I get in return?
What you didn't get
that day we came for lunch
at your house.
When?
Now.
Had Steven been drinking?
[Martin] Yes.
[Anna] Can it be
considered his mistake?
Yes.
It wasn't mine, that's for sure.
You know an anesthesiologist
is never to blame
for the bad outcome
of an operation.
The surgeon is
always responsible.
He'd had two drinks that morning
before we went in to prepare.
Luckily, no one else realized,
I was the only one that knew.
But, back then, that
wasn't exactly unusual.
You know that.
(Mathew breathing heavily)
(belt buckle jingling)
(Matthew exhaling and panting)
Thank you.
This meat is delicious.
You were right, after all.
The children are
much better off here.
I was even thinking
we might take them
to the beach house
for a few days.
a change of scenery
might do us all good.
Do you know what
I've been craving?
Mashed potato.
Why don't you make
some tomorrow?
You have beautiful hands.
Everyone's been
telling me lately
and now I can see for myself.
Nice and clean.
But so what if
they're beautiful?
They're lifeless.
Sometimes, Steven, you're
just an incompetent man
who goes on and on,
saying stupid things
like, "Let's do a scan.
"Let's do an ultrasound,
let's wear brown socks.
"Let's make mashed potatoes,
let's go to the beach house."
Excuse me?
Our two children are dying
in the other room, but, yes,
I can make you mashed
potatoes tomorrow.
Please don't talk
to me that way.
If you don't like
it, why don't you go
and live with Martin's mother?
I bet she'll talk to you better.
[Steven] You wanted
the kids to come home,
and they came home.
What else do you want me to do?
Something to put an
end to all of this,
that's what I want;
can you do that?
You do realize, Steven,
we're in this situation
because of you?
So what do you suggest?
Tell me.
No, wait, I know, I've got it.
There is a way we can
put a stop to all this.
All we need to do is find the
tooth of a baby crocodile,
the pubes of a virgin.
And then we just have to
burn them all before sunset.
Let me see, do we have any
Teeth, pubes?
Nope, nothin' here.
(clattering)
There's nothing in here either.
Let me see, nothing here.
Pubes, teeth?
Nothing in this box either.
Where are they?
I'm sure they were here
earlier, I put them here myself.
Who's been moving things around?
It's unbelievable.
I don't suppose you've
got any pubes I can have,
by any chance?
Oh, I forgot, you
don't have any left.
We don't have any of
the things we need.
There's no need for us to argue.
Everything's so
difficult already.
There's no point
making it worse.
If he was telling the truth,
wouldn't you be sick too?
Wouldn't you be
paralyzed already?
How do you explain that?
Yes, you're right.
Let's wait a little longer
until we're all dead
and then see what
you can do about it.
There's really nothing
to worry about.
You need to go to
the hospital tomorrow
and pick up more feeding
formula for the children.
We're almost out.
[Steven] Okay.
(ominous tones)
(ominous music)
(door latch clicks)
(ominous music)
Good morning.
Good morning.
[Steven] Did
you get any sleep?
What time is it?
Ten past eight.
Get up and come with
me for a moment.
You remember Martin, don't you?
He came by for a play-date.
I told him the kids were
feeling a little unwell
and he'll have to stay
here until they get better.
Anna, go upstairs and make
him some of that lemonade
I'll stay here and
keep him company.
Please.
[Martin] Let me go.
My mother's gonna
be worried sick.
Do you think your mother's
proud of you, Martin?
her beloved son is a murderer?
Murderer?
There's really no need
for such a dramatic,
sensational, old-fashioned word.
But if you insist,
the murderer, both
in my father's case
and our current
situation, is not me.
- Stop talking.
- Don't you understand
that you're wasting time?
And you don't have
much time left.
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