On a Wednesday in 1989—the night Erik disappeared—Tova returns from Jazzercise in a green leotard and makes love with Will, both anticipating an imminent empty nest. The leotard lands on the Charleston chair, where it remains when police arrive after Erik fails to return from his ferry-ticket shift. Tova clings to denial until Erik is declared dead, and the leotard becomes an indelible marker of that night; the chair, even reupholstered, feels complicit.

Tova recalls the house her father built: cellar below, living floor, and an attic once reached by ladder. As his health waned, Papa and two shop-hands transformed the attic into a polished playroom, complete with carved chairs and a dollhouse, just as Tova and Lars were aging out of play. The room’s beauty outlasted its purpose, a bittersweet monument to plans that faded.

Years later, Tova and Will move back to care for Mama. Erik’s baby toys are saved for grandchildren who never come; after Erik dies, they remain stored in the attic. Following a grief-fueled incident, Will replaces the attic’s dormer window, bringing in more light. A real estate agent later praises the hidden home and suggests clearing the attic, but Tova and Will decide not to sell. Erik’s toy car stays on the shelf.

Now, preparing for change, Tova goes to the attic, slips Erik’s one-wheeled toy car into her robe, and vows that this time will be different—she will move. Late that night, with Cat sleeping beside her, Tova dreams of being cocooned by tentacled arms and feels profound relief, signaling a fragile peace and her readiness to release the past.