Mosaic (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - Fact and Fiction - full transcript

What the eff?

This guy comes completely
out of the woodwork.

Says he used to be partners
with Eric Neill.

Tied him to a whole bunch
of cases in the past.

Nothing just comes
out of the blue.

Casey Delacroix. Who is he,
and why is this coming out now?

Someone is playing dirty.

Leak something,
chum the water.

The t-shirt found buried

with the body was discovered.

-Who backed your new business?
-What are you suggesting?



Whoever is paying Casey
wants me to stay in here.

You can't talk to him

until you and I speak in person.

How serious is this?

So what happens now?

You and Laura are
gonna have to decide

how to play this.

What does your gut tell you?

Nope. No.

You cannot
be here, Alan.

Is that her?

Alan, what are you
doing here?

Tom Davis, he runs--
represents the owners
of the property.

I'm aware of who he is,
but right now, this property
is under my jurisdiction.



- We're not going
to get in anybody's way--
- You already are in the way.

Don't you talk to me
that way!

I'm not doing this now.
Dave?

- Alan, it's all right.
- It's time to go, Mr. Pape.

- Get your hands off me.
- Mr. Pape, it's time to go.

- Alan...
- Oh, good. No. Nope.

Trust me,

you guys do not want
to be the technicality

that gets this case
shut down again.

- "Down again"?
- You mean it's open?

Unofficially.
I'm trying to get it
reopened.

And in light
of the new circumstances,

I think I got
a pretty good shot.

Well, that's--
that's great.

Yeah, as long
as nobody screws it up

and I get to do the job
the way I need to do it.

Is that why
Alan was so angry?

It's complicated.

Alan is mad because
he's not boss anymore

and because he's trying
to get information that
I can't give him

- or to anyone!
- Anyone?

Yeah, anyone,
meaning specifically

people who are not
involved in this case.

I need you guys
off the property now.

Detective,
a statement, please.
- Joel, please.

Hey! Especially you.

Look, I'm sorry,
but things are
different now.

I-- I can't
communicate with you.

- Are you serious?
- I need you off
the property now.

Is it Olivia Lake?

Would you secure this,
please?

Can you please give us
some more information?

- No comment.
- Come on, Dave, John.

No comment!
Please, no comment.

Um... excuse me, Petra.

I...

think I need to take
a walk or something.

Oh, sure, sure.
Of course.

I gotta--

I gotta think about
some stuff, too.

¿Hola?

Gracias.

Oh, JC, when you
call in for this,

I hope it costs you,
like, eight million pesos

or whatever the fuck
the currency is in Ibiza.

Ibiza.

Oh, shit.

I am such
a fucking idiot.

I mean,
my choices in men,

including
and specifically you

in this moment.

I cannot believe

that I let you go away

this one New Year's Eve.

I mean, you should know me
well enough by now

to know that
I didn't mean it.

I lost my train.

Uh, men, yeah.

You know?

If you ever, ever

fucking abandon me
again...

I am gonna fucking kill you

and then I'm gonna be
so fucking pissed

that you're not there.

I mean, really,

fucking men.

Every goddamn one of them

that I invite
into my house

are just a bunch
of fucking...

liars
and con men and...

fucking violent.

I mean,
one of them tonight,

he just fucking had
his fist, like, right up

and was just screaming
and spitting

and his--
oh, my fucking God.

Look who's back.

Ugh, fuck.

First Christmas
she allowed me to leave

because of
where things were
with your brother.

Where she thought they were.

I always told her
there were three things
I hated about her--

her yapping mutts,

her horrid cats,

and her god-awful
faux Rococo credenza.

So when she
rewrites her will...

what does
she leave me?

My fault, though.

I told her
there was no way

I wasn't giving her
my velvet Elvis collection.

I don't know
what smells worse--

the endless amount
of food that goes in

or the endless
stream of shit
that comes out.

And somewhere in the middle,
they apparently give pleasure.

Who do you think
she was talking about

at the end
of the recording?

Uh, do you mean
besides your brother?

You really think
it was him?

I'd like to think
it wasn't.

I'd like to think
that even for a moment

she'd found
something real.

Who else
could it be? Joel?

She talks about
trouble with men.

Joel was "the boy."

Sometimes just "boy."

Poor kid.

Big dreams
and bad luck.

But a good kid
at his core.

I always thought, for him,
that was the most
important thing.

To be a good guy?

Did they have
a relationship?

She fancied him
for maybe five minutes,

I think literally.

What about Michael?

O'Connor?

Hold on,
I'll pour myself
a glass of water

and gladly perform
a spit take for you.

They never...?

Dated?

Uh, no.

Trust me.

How about Alan Pape?

It's funny.

If John Stamos was
"We have reached our
cruising altitude,"

Alan Pape was
"We have now begun
our initial descent."

They went out?

Briefly.

Was it big?

For him.

How big?

"He used to be
married" big.

And for her?

Like Altoids.

Or those little things
you pick up

on your way
out of Walgreens

like lip balm
or little face fans.

- An afterthought.
- More like the thought you have

that precedes
a full-body shudder.

I think he was
the last person she dated

who was older
than her.

Was he the jealous type?

Oh, wow.

Joel.
Hey, it's Petra.

Just checking in.

Uh, finding out
some stuff,

and some thinking
about you.

Um, might be good
for us to talk.

Give me a call.

JC knows I'm here.

I just have
a few questions.

Hopefully,
I have answers.

Where were you
on the New Year's Eve
that Olivia was killed?

Why is this important?

Just trying to fit
the puzzle pieces together.

I was home alone.

Anyone see you?

As I said, I was alone.

You were in love
with Olivia, weren't you?

How is this
going for you so far?

- I'm sorry?
- My body language.

Am I opening
or am I closing off to you?

I'm sorry, I--
I don't follow.

Even Nancy Drew
knew to bury the lead.

At least act confused,
get me to start
offering things.

I knew where this was going
the minute you walked
through the door.

And to be honest,
even the prurient,

minor thrill I thought
I was gonna get

watching this slow-motion
train wreck has worn off,

and so now
this conversation is over.

They're copies.

They were in the credenza
at Olivia's house.

Those letters are
none of your business.

You were jealous,
you were angry,

you even blame her
for the fact that

- your daughter
won't even speak to you.
- You need to leave now.

Where did you find
Casey Delacroix?

I said you need
to leave.

You dragged
Casey Delacroix
out of hiding

- to reshine the light
back on my brother.
- I'll call the police

or I'll remove you
myself!

Why is it so important to you
to keep my brother behind bars?

Because your brother
is guilty of murder.

And, yes,
those letters are mine.

Now, I, too, lead
what I guess one
would now call

a solitary existence.

And I understand you
to be trying

to make sense of what
little family you have,

and I'm sorry
I don't have a magic pill

to make what I imagine
is a very painful past
go away,

but I had no idea
who Casey Delacroix was

until I saw it
on the news.

And you are in
my place of work

and I'd like it back
now, please,

as I, too, am having
a seriously piss-poor day.

I-- I just
forgot something.

Oh, please don't tell me
you're actually feeling
sorry for me,

'cause to be honest,
I prefer your suspicion
to your pity.

I wanna speak
with Michael O'Connor.

Why?

I-- I don't know
exactly.

I-- but my brother
met with someone

from his organization
a long time ago,

and then a year later,
someone named Cliff Jones

contacted Eric about trying
to wrangle Olivia's land
away from her.

And you think Michael has
something to do with this?

I think Michael may have
a few pieces of the puzzle

that I am
clearly missing.

And why on earth
would I help you?

After what I just
accused you of,
you wouldn't.

And I wouldn't
blame you.

I overreached.

And I'm...

I know I'm in
over my head.

But I have
nowhere else to turn.

You are literally
the only human being
on the planet who can help me.

You don't want
Michael O'Connor.

- I do.
- Michael knows nothing
about anything,

including
where he keeps
his own socks.

If you want information,
you want Tom Davis.

Tom runs his life.

Well, how do
I speak to him?

Wait for me
at the side entrance.

Let me make
a phone call.

Word of advice--

Tom Davis
is a smart man.

Just 'cause
you end a sentence
with a question mark

- don't mean
it's a question.
- I don't follow.

Make sure your
questions are questions
and not accusations.

Noted.

As I mentioned
on the phone,

- Miss-- it is Miss?
- Yes.

Neill has a few
simple questions.

I told her that
you knew everything
about anything

that happens
west of the Mississippi.

And, well,
east of the Pacific.

Please have a seat.

Thank you.

So, I checked
our records.

Your brother
and Mr. Delacroix

approached us
on 6 November, 2011,
at 3:11 p.m.

through our office
in Redding.

They wanted us to fund
some exploratory research

into some of
the decommissioned
old mines on our property.

They were asking people
all around the area.

He was rebuked
on 6 November at 6:14 p.m.

by a phone call
from our office in Summit.

Rebuked?
How so?

I believe
the person he spoke with
explained our position,

and I believe
he got the message.

Which was?

We will not
tolerate grift.

Why didn't you
have him arrested?

I can't say.

Meaning...?

I don't recall.

I'll be honest,
we get this a lot.

We have people
that deal with it.

Was it, by any chance,
a man named Cliff Jones?

I don't know
who that is.

- If that's all--
- I do have one more question.

If the mines were all
old and decommissioned,

why were there geologists
on the property?

Technology
has changed.

Decisions made to do
some minor exploration,

see if things were
more cost-effective.

Happens all the time.

They weren't,
by the way.

Anything further
or are we done here?

Actually, this one
is the art geek in me

who couldn't
live with herself
if she didn't ask.

The Red Room.

You must get this
all the time.

Care to join us?

Thanks,
I'm good.

You know,
you won't win this.

- Win what?
- All this.

These mountains,
these woods

are older, taller,
deeper, more valuable

than you or I
will ever have
or dream of having.

Your brother
found that out.

Don't be a chip
off the same block.

Amy. Hi.
I'm Eric Neill's sister.

Yeah. Yeah, I told you
when you called, though,
it's over.

- I have nothing to add.
- Just-- just a couple
things, please.

I'm, uh-- I'm actually
really confused and I could
really use your guidance.

- My guidance?
- Your-- your expertise.

I'm, uh--
I'm not good at this,
admittedly, not like you,

and I know
I'm grasping at straws

and I just-- really,
please, one question.

All right,
one question.

And cut
the bullshit flattery.

Fair enough.
Thank you.

My brother said
that four years ago,

he mentioned to you
someone named Cliff Jones.

Yes, who I tried
to question but couldn't.

- Because...?
- Because he doesn't exist.

Okay, sure, fine,

but someone
contacted Eric,

someone who said
they're Cliff Jones.

- That, I believe.
- Good.

I'm sure Eric wants you
to believe that.

Okay, here's the thing--
Eric met with Michael O'Connor

or someone
from his group,

and after that,
like a year later,

he gets a call from someone
who may not be Cliff Jones,

- but he calls himself
Cliff Jones...
- I'm sorry...

...and he wants Eric
to pull the exact same scam

that Eric tried to pull
on Michael O'Connor.

Where is this going?

Do you think this is
a coincidence?

Eric meets with
Michael O'Connor

- and then he gets a--
- I'm sorry.

Are you saying
that you think
that Michael O'Connor

has the time or the need
to employ in any capacity

someone like
your brother Eric?

Are you afraid
if this case gets reopened,

you'll look bad
for pushing Eric
into a plea bargain?

You and I are no longer
speaking, all right?

About this
or any other matter.

You know, you have
no idea how far in
over your head you are.

It's fucking sad.

Hi, it's Petra Neill again
for Dr. Schoendienst.

Just a quick question
about beryllium.

Left my number
on the previous message.

Would appreciate
a quick callback.
Thanks.

Bye.

Miss Neill?
I'm sorry to bother you.

My name is Maria Villella.
I'm with "CU News Center."

It's an online paper
for Colorado University.

Now, I'm sure
you're being hounded.

It's not a good time, actually.
I was just leaving.

Well, we're running
a story on Friday

and I'd like to invite you
to be part of it.

It's how the charges
were brought 12 years ago

against your brother
in the death of Eloise Brand.

I believe
there never were
actual charges.

Well, that's actually
what the story's about.

We've received information
that charges were brought

and then dropped in exchange
for information leading to
your father's arrest.

I'm sorry, I have no comment.

Whoa, you seem
different.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Just tired.

So, tell me something
about Cliff Jones.

Anything.

Well, there was
a scar.

Where?

Uh, on his, uh--
his right cheek.

And he didn't drive.

We were waiting at the valet
and he called a cab.

And I said,
"What, you don't drive?"

And he said,
"Long story."

W-What's going on,
Petra?

Are you
still with me?

When did you see him?

- Uh, spring.
- When?

I don't know.

There was
a basketball game on.

It was a big game.

We were in a bar
and the bar was full.

What year?

It was before
I met Olivia.

It was the Final Four.

He said something
about not getting
to the finals again.

He was pissed
'cause one of the teams--

- Which team?
- I don't know.

Which team?

Whichever one
played UConn.

- He was pissed
at UConn.
- Why?

Because they beat
his team.

Yes!
We're getting somewhere.
Ask me another.

Did you throw
Dad under the bus
to save your own skin?

What?

God, no.
Wow, no.

- Why?
- Eric.

No.

Not like it sounds.

Don't do your face.

Don't--
you gotta trust me.

You do not want
the answer to this.

Talk to me.
Don't do your stone face!

Trust me, don't press this
for your own protection.

Do not pretend any of this
was about protecting me.

Dad was taking us
all down.

There were shell companies
all over the place

- and Mom was in on it.
- You know what?

Don't go, don't go.
You can't go now.

You have to let me
finish this.
Mom knew.

Mom cosigned on
some of the documents.

Mom would've gone down, too,
but we made a choice!

Don't go, Petra!

Mom and I made
a decision!

It was the only way
to keep us all together!

This is all a distraction
to keep the focus on me

when you were
getting close!

Hello?

Hi, Miss Neill.

This is Liz Schoendienst
from BYU School of Geology.

You called about
a beryllium question?

Yes, yes, I did.

Well, in a way,
I'm relieved to know

that even you
can look like hell.

Uh, ah, Kentucky.

UConn beat Kentucky.

Okay,
trying Kentucky.

Nothing at
University of Kentucky
or Kentucky Law.

I've searched every class
from 1950 through 2010--

undergrad,
business school,
law school.

No Cliff Jones.

What are the chances my brother
got Cliff Jones's name wrong?

I don't think your brother
gets that guy's name wrong.

He's had nothing else
to think about for
three years.

Then again,
I don't think Cliff Jones

gives your brother
his real name.

Actually--
though--

all right,
hold on.

You said that he said
he didn't drive.

Did he say why?

He just said
it was a long story.

Okay.

Now, if I was doing
what I used to do,

I'd do this.

I'd say this
is a long shot...

but then
I'd do this.

Hmm.

So, let's see

if the old dog
can still...

- What are you--
- Hang on, hang on.

Mm, well.

I've searched
every Cliff or Clifford

and found
no first names,

but there was
a John Clifford,

Kentucky Law
class of '87.

Got his first DUI
in 1996,

his second in 2007.

And before you get
too optimistic about
meeting this guy,

he most likely would've
gotten his third in 2014

if he hadn't
driven his Peugeot
into the Mediterranean.

But he has the scar
that Eric was talking about.

Looks like he banged it into
one too many steering wheels.

Okay, when--
when something says
"survived by a spouse"

and, uh, someone wanted
to reach that spouse...

It's seriously
late in France.

Okay, but if someone waited
till an appropriate time
to call...

how might someone
find that person?

So, moving on.

"Ansiers" Limited--

1102 Mountain Road.

Rusty Red Barrel Trust
buys 44 Summit View.

Grandville Limited--
67 Summit View.

Des Alps on Wayward.

Montmartre
on Hidden Meadow.

Peculiars over here.

And Lavandou Holdings

buys Olivia's property
from a charity.

So, what's next?

Oh, you know what?
Wait a minute.

This-- this is what
I still don't understand.

Why did Flor
go to Mexico?

Isn't the question when?

'Cause wouldn't that
tell you why?

- Did I say
something good?
- Oh.

Am I a Hardy boy?
I pick Joe.

Okay, so,
Flor goes to Mexico.

And then where
does that go?

Ask Michael or Tom.

They love to talk
about their private life.

Speaking of which,

okay, Olivia gets
in an argument with Eric.

She's distraught,
she's angry.

Why are you
the second person
she calls?

When she "Walking Deads"
her way back in here,
I'll ask,

'cause I've been
wondering that myself.

Seriously?

She leaves you
a three-minute message
on your voicemail,

but first,

she has a 52-second
conversation with Michael.

Why is that?

She's not calling him
for consolation.

Why is she
calling him?

She's angry.

Yes.

She's angry
at Michael.

Eric confesses
he came into her life
to scam her land,

and the first person
she calls is Michael, angry.

Exactly!

Give me a second.

This is Horacio.
Please leave a message.

- Danger, Will Robinson.
- What?

You told me
to alert you
if I saw Joel.

Oh, thank you.

Poor guy.
He's gonna be
so damn relieved.

Joel! Hey, I've been
trying to reach you.

What?
Uh, sorry.

Um, something
personal-- home.

I need to talk to you.
It's important.

I, um--
I actually don't know
how to say this.

Um, when we met,
when I came to Louisiana,

I, um-- I wasn't
direct with you.

I was dishonest,
actually.

I, um-- yes, I was hoping
to find something to--

- to reopen Eric's case,
but in truth--

Shit, it's Horacio.
I have to take this.

Don't go anywhere,
please.

- ¿Hola?
-

- Okay.
- 011503.

- Okay.
- 2278.

- Okay.
- 6015.

Okay.

- Gracias, Horacio. Gracias.
- Claro, de nada.

Hello?

Fuck.

Oh, fuck, come on.

- Hello?
- Hi. Miss Clifford?

- Yes. Miss Neill?
- Hi, yes. Thank you so much.

Thank you so much
for picking up.

I know it's early.

I just have a couple
of quick questions

about your late husband.

I'm sorry about--
I don't know what word
you prefer--

his passing.

It was a long time ago.
It's fine.

- What did you want to know?
- Well, I just--

I guess, first off,

who exactly did
your husband work for?

This him?

That is most definitely him.

- His real name
is John Clifford.
- How did you find him?

Actually, with a little help
from the guy who put you
in here.

Alan told me you wanted
Michael and myself.

- You remember from yesterday,
Michael's in the Caribbean.
- I see.

This meeting,
what is it about?

Beryllium.

I didn't know much
about it before.

It's used
in the space program,
weapons manufacturing,

medical research,
cell phones.

In the 1950s,
Michael's grandfather

lost a dispute
over the mining rights to it

in Warren's Ridge.

Do the letters HPCIC
mean anything to you?

It stands for "high-performance
chelation ion chromatography."

As an advisor to the inheritor
of some of the largest mining
interests in the state,

I'm surprised
it hasn't crossed
your screen.

Point is, it can detect
trace elements of metals
like beryllium in rivers,

like the one that runs
under not just Olivia's property

but six other
parcels of land,

all owned
by trusts with names
like Hornflower Holdings,

Ponsiers LLC,
Ochre Bridge Partnership.

Do these sound familiar?

Each one
is an obscure reference

to a painting that hangs
just down the hall
in the Red Room,

just like Lavandou.

I'm sorry, is there
a point to this

besides showing me
how adept you are

at picking your way
through Wikipedia?

HPCIC became
commercially available
right around the time

Michael began
casually inquiring about
buying Olivia's property.

But the stubborn narcissist
was holding on to it

for emotional reasons.

She wouldn't sell.

Not at 7, not at 8,
not even at 8 1/2 million.

So, why didn't
he offer 15? 20?

Because it would have
tipped her to its actual value,

and she never
would have sold.

- I'm sorry, I still
don't see--
- My angle.

Yes, it is
all about angle,
isn't it?

Enter my brother.

He and his friend Casey
made a boneheaded attempt

to scam someone far smarter,
far more powerful
than themselves.

And that smarter person,
you, quite wisely kept
Eric's number.

I assume you know
John Clifford.

His widow confirmed
that he worked

in your Cockburn Town,
Turks and Caicos office.

She also, by the way,
has her suspicions

about his
accidental death,

but we'll save that
for another day.

Anyway, John Clifford,
under the name Cliff Jones,

contacted Eric
for one reason--

to talk Olivia
into selling her property.

But Eric-- and here's
that word again--

he got emotional.

He fell in love
and confessed.

So she got emotional
and called Michael.

But as we've already
established,

there's no reasoning
with emotion.

Well, this is
quite a story
you're weaving.

I acknowledge it is.

But I don't think
you actually believe it.

Because if you did,

why would you put yourself
in this jeopardy?

Perhaps I took
precautions.

Except for
the most important one--

making sure your facts
are correct.

Thelma Clifford has a history
of bipolar disorder

and delusions
of persecution,

which is why her spurious
and, I might add,

actionable
attempt at blackmail
was already thrown out

by the Cockburn Town
magistrate

and state and local
courts here.

So her claims are not new.

Yours are.

And they're reckless.

And they're wrong.

Michael was here
that night.

His cell phone
proves it.

He left it here
when he went down.

- He never went down.
- He was seen going down.

- By who?
- The maid.

He went down the hill
to shut Olivia up.

She was being Olivia,

so he hit her,
maybe accidentally,

but she fell.

Now suddenly,
it's assault.

And she still
won't shut up.

Finally, a hammer.

Three times
until she was dead.

Then he dumps her
in the mine on the edge
of his property.

You have proof?

I have
a sworn statement.

Do you?

Flor Castro saw him
leave in a rush,

then return
65 minutes later

bathed in sweat,
mud, snow,

and some sort
of brownish-red substance

that she couldn't explain.

Four hours later,
she was told, by you,

to leave the country
immediately.

You can try and contact her,
but you would have to know
her new last name

and the country
she's now living in.

I believe you're bluffing.

I'm going to make
a phone call.

While I'm gone,
I would encourage you

to reconsider the...

substance and intent
of this meeting.

When I'm back,
if you're not here,

I'll assume you thought better
of your decision to visit.

I'll be here.

Well,
you're not accurate

about any of this,
but I am curious.

What's the ask here?

You mean in exchange
for my silence?

There's a reason
you came here like this.

Let's not kid ourselves.

What's my ask?

That is the question.

My ask?

What I want...

is the Red Room.

The Red Room?

The Red Room?

I would like...

the Red Room, yes.

Excuse me a moment.

Wow, that just popped out.

The Red Room.
That's why I'm here.

Of course,
it all makes sense now.

I can see that.

Me and the Red Room.

You rich guys
have fast planes.

Do you know Joel Hurley?

I do.

You might want
to check the news.

He's just confessed
to the murder of Olivia Lake.

Wow, a sworn statement
from the maid,

that's a bold play.

Very ballsy.

Well, that's when Tom got up
and went in the other room.

So, you think
you had him on the ropes?

Now, I can say this--
it's a compelling narrative.

I can see how the dots
all connect.

There's one pothole,
though, and it's a big one.

Joel confessed.

And I should tell you,
my guys are telling me

Joel passed his polygraph.

- Passed meaning...?
- His confession's
gonna hold.

He's telling the truth.

Or he believes
he's telling the truth.

Okay, yeah.

Well...

Let me ask you something.

Why did you go in there

to Tom and Michael?

To get them to admit it.

- I mean, somebody had
to take these guys on.
- Oh, I don't buy it.

What were you really after?

What was your big move?

There was no big move.

No?

Just wanted
to get a firsthand look
at the inevitable?

You mean
that they were never
gonna go down.

Could be they outman you.

Could be
they outspend you.

Or it's just blind,
dumb luck.

People like that

just don't lose.

You got the case
reopened.

It was the entire reason
you came here.

I don't understand
why you're not bouncing
off the walls.

If it were me,

I'd be taking
yes for an answer
and moving on.

Petra?

You have a visitor
out in the hallway.

Thank you.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Miss Neill?
- Petra.

- How can I help you?
- Hi. My name is Lisa Phelps.

I'm putting together
a book I hope will be

the definitive book
on the legacy of Olivia Lake.

Oh, wow.

Um, I'm sorry,
how old are you?

Oh. I'm 17.

And it's more like
a personal narrative,

stories of people's lives
she really changed,
like mine.

A bunch of other kids
from the program did pieces

and so did your brother.

He said I should
talk to you.

Oh, my brother
did a-- a painting?

No, he wrote an essay.

Oh.

Is this for
a school project?

It's for Embry House.

- Her publisher?
- Yeah.

They're doing
the anniversary reprint
of "Whose Woods,"

and I kind of thought
this could be a companion
for it.

Actually, I spent the last
four and a half years
working on it.

I didn't sell it
till two weeks ago.

You sold it?

On your own?

Olivia said the only person
that could take me off my path

is myself
if I stop walking.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Let me know if you have
any questions.

Thank you.

Just looking.

Olivia Lake's
children's classic

"Whose Woods These Are"