EXT. LAKE - DAY

For a long beautiful moment, a young woman swims underwater. Her long dark hair shines against her pale limbs.

CLARE (V.O.)
My name is Clare Cuttner. I am seventeen years old, but remember, things are never exactly as they appear.

Different colored fish weave around her graceful body.

CLARE (V.O.cont’d) (cont’d)
I first came to live with Grandmother about a year ago, after I killed my parents. I don’t mean to sound callous. Let me explain.

She swims deeper down and her image is replaced by a forest of trees reflected in the water’s rolling surface.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CABIN, BEDROOM - DAWN

The trees are reflected in the mirror.

The sleek legs of the same young woman slip off a white sheet on a dark wooden bed, onto the cold floor. Her long white nightgown rustles as she walks across the worn floor.

CLARE CUTTNER, 17, dark straight hair, knowing eyes, with a startlingly intense presence, stands by the mirror. She stops as if she heard something, then looks at herself in the mirror. In one motion, she grasps the hem of her nightgown and pulls it over her head.

INT. CABIN HALLWAY - MORNING

CLARE wears a dark, loose fitting dress as she carries a breakfast tray up the stairs and down the hallway. She pushes through a door and into...

INT. CABIN, PARENTS BEDROOM - CONTINUED

CLARE
I’ve brought breakfast.

MOTHER is flushed and FATHER has a row of pink scratches across his chest. They quickly pull the covers up as she sets the tray across their thighs. He puts his arm around Clare and pulls her into a kiss on the cheek. She places her fingers in the scratch marks on his chest.

Mother pokes a hole in the yolk and the yellow liquid runs across her plate.

There is the SOUND of WIND rustling through the curtains.

EXT. WOODS - MORNING

A slight wind blows through the Northern California woods, the trees and grass dance slightly around Clare as she walks. Everything is “super-technicolor” and otherworldly, from the flowers, to a dead mole swarming with ants. Brilliant orange mushrooms shine in the half light of the thick summer foliage.

She stops to read a Rattlesnake Warning Sign and sits on a rock. The wind carries the SOUND of MOTHER HUMMING as she washes dishes and FATHER SINGING in the shower.

CLARE (V.O.)
As far as I could tell, my parents didn’t love each other, but like many people, they felt they should. I have never seen the necessity for false love.

Something catches her eye in the dead leaves. It is A TOAD. She picks it up and it doesn’t struggle, it just looks at her, the two of them staring. We hear the SOUND of THEIR HEARTS BEATING as we CLOSE IN ON the toad’s EYE where there is a reflection of a woman’s hand beckoning.

DREAMY DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. CABIN FRONT/LAKESHORE - MORNING

FATHER (O.S.)
How about a canoe ride?

CLARE (O.S.)
Okay, let me put him away first.

Father is reflected in the TOAD’S EYE. PULL BACK from the TOAD’S EYE to see Father in swimming trunks holding a glass of whiskey.

FATHER
Aren’t you afraid of getting warts?

CLARE
No, I’m going to keep him as a pet.

He drinks his whiskey, ill at ease.

Mother stands in the screen door looking at them.

MOTHER
And what are you two doing?

FATHER
Our daughter has captured a beast.

Mother is fascinated as she takes a closer look at the toad.

MOTHER
Oh, how cute, what are you going to name it?

FATHER
She’s going to wait until she’s alone, then she’s going to kiss it, hoping it will turn into a prince.

MOTHER
How exciting, I don’t suppose you’d want to share him with me.

FATHER
Why is it beautiful women are always attracted to ugliness?

MOTHER
Isn’t it fortunate for you that we are?

FATHER
Oh I didn’t mean you, dear, I was talking about beautiful women.

MOTHER
Your opinions about beauty lack authority darling, as do all your opinions except those on commerce and alcohol.

Father sits down and takes a glug of his whiskey, defeated.

CLARE
Are we going for a ride now?

He looks out at the lake.

FATHER
I think it’s a little rough for that Clare. Maybe this afternoon will be better.

CLARE
You didn’t think it was too rough five minutes ago.

A slight wind blows Clare’s hem up exposing her thigh.

FATHER
It’s much rougher now.

He stands up, finishes his whiskey and goes inside. The wind curls a lock of Mother’s hair against her lip, she pulls it away and looks out at the lake.

MOTHER
Why don’t you go and find a home for your toad, dear. There’s some empty boxes in my closet. I’m going down to the dock.

INT. CABIN, BEDROOM - DAY

The sound of Father brushing his teeth can be heard from her bedroom. She closes the door and puts the toad on the dresser. The wind causes a leafy branch to scratch against her window.

CLARE
(to the toad)
Do you have a name?...Would you have a name if I kissed you?

She picks it up and presses it to her cheek, then gently holds it up to her lips. The wind outside suddenly picks up and their hearts beat rapidly as she starts UNBUTTONING HER BLOUSE.

WOMAN’S VOICE (O.S.)
(whispering)
Gore.

She places the creature gently between her breasts.

CLARE
Gore...?

She quickly closes her eyes as the whisper becomes more audible.

WOMAN’S VOICE (O.S.)
Clare. Look at me, Clare.

She presses her eyes shut, then opens them almost defiantly looking IN THE MIRROR at... ...a middle-aged woman with dark hair parted in the center and pulled straight back, sitting in the far corner of a gray room. She appears very small and vague, like an idea of an image.

WOMAN IN MIRROR (cont’d)
Don’t be afraid, Clare. I’m here to help you.

CLARE cups the toad with her hands, then searches with her eyes into the gray room in the mirror.

WOMAN IN MIRROR (cont’d)
Do you believe me?

CLARE
Yes.

WOMAN IN MIRROR
Call me Frances.

CLARE
Yes Frances.

She puts the toad down on the dresser and pulls her blouse closed. The IMAGE FADES and her own face appears, shocked and more pale than usual.

FRANCES (V.O.)
(faint whisper)
Clare, do not reject me.

She lies down on her big bed, staring out the window at the increasing wind storm. She touches the place inside her blouse where the toad was.

INT. CABIN - DAY

JAMES (V.O.)
Is there anyone home?

CLARE hides in the shadows on the other side of the screen door from JAMES. He is a tall, strong, tan man in his late 30’s, with an unwavering certainty about him.

CLARE
(whispers)
James.

With the strong wind, he doesn’t hear her.

JAMES
Hello? Anyone home?

CLARE
(whispers)
James.

He smiles and squints through the screen. She places her hand up and he sees it.

JAMES
Are you alone?

CLARE
They’re down at the dock.

She locks the door with a quick slip of the hook in the latch. He presses on the handle.

JAMES
Open it. I want to touch you.

She steps back from the door and stands waiting.

He raises his leg and KICKS A HOLE in the middle of the screen, reaches through the open tear and unlocks the door. His hand slips under her skirt and his other hand wraps across her breasts. HE BITES HER NECK. Her eyes remain steady, fiery.

EXT. DOCKS - DAY

Father is dragging the canoe out of the boat shed, the squeal of the aluminum mingles with the sound of the wind whipping across the water. Mother watches, arms crossed, irritated, as Clare and James walk toward the docks.

JAMES
Hi.

FATHER
Jim, what are you doing here?

Mother crosses her legs, revealing a blue vein in her leg, she smiles up at James who smiles back at her.

JAMES
Thought I’d drop by, that’s all.

Father frowns at him and continues scraping the canoe against the raised nails of the dock. Mother stands up, her shoulders back, and her eyes bright.

MOTHER
What a lovely idea, Jim. Let’s take the canoe out to one of the islands.

FATHER
It’s too rough to go that far.

Mother takes James’s arm and they head toward the cabin.

MOTHER
We’ll get the food ready. Help your father with the canoe Clare.

CLARE sits down and watches her father struggle with the canoe. Her mother laughs wildly in the distance. Her father looks in their direction with an angry expression.

FATHER
I don’t need you here, why don’t you go help your mother.

He shoves the canoe into the water.

CLARE
Where are we going to have the picnic?

FATHER
I don’t think you should come with us, dear.

CLARE
Why are you angry?

FATHER
(angry)
I’m not angry, it’s a dangerous trip, and you can’t swim.

CLARE
You and Mother can’t swim either.

FATHER
We are more experienced in the boat than you are.

CLARE
You’re just angry cause your brother’s here.

In the sand are small footprints of a sharp-clawed animal. Father stands, trembling as he points at her.

FATHER
You’re not coming with us.

CLARE
(calmly)
Fine.

INT. CABIN, KITCHEN - DAY

Mother’s hands glitter with fish oil as she lines sandwiches with sardines. She giggles as she slowly licks her finger, desperately close to James.

INT. CABIN, BEDROOM - DAY

CLARE closes the door to her room and picks up her toad. Something catches her eye in the base of an old lamp. It is a blurry image of Frances, but only for a moment.

CLARE goes to the lamp and touches it, but nothing appears.

FRANCES (O.S.)
Clare.

She touches the lamp again, then turns around and there is Frances, in the mirror, now much younger, her black hair loose around her shoulders, smiling as she floats in a gray body of water.

FRANCES
Do you see me clearly?

CLARE
Yes.

FRANCES
Do you know why you see me?

Frances is beautiful as she dips under water and comes up again, her black hair shining wet. Clare reaches toward the mirror trying to touch her, but her finger stops at the glass and she retracts her hand.

FRANCES (cont’d)
I am here to teach you about yourself. I have powers to offer you, if you choose to accept them.

She smiles, floating gracefully. Clare is enchanted.

CLARE
Yes, I accept.

FRANCES
Accept my mark.

She looks down and her skirt is somehow raised above her knee and a SPIDER rests on her thigh. It moves slowly up, black against her creamy white skin.

FRANCES (cont’d)
You have chosen.

The spider stops and Clare gasps slightly as IT BITES her. The toad’s tongue flashes out and catches the spider. In its place is a SMALL SCARLET MARK resembling a character from a strange language. She touches it, fascinated.

MOTHER (O.S.)
Clare, are you in there?

FRANCES
Gore will do your bidding.

Frances fades in the mirror and Clare’s smiling, flushed face appears.

The door opens and her mother stands in the doorway, frowning.

MOTHER (cont’d)
What have you been doing? You look strange.

CLARE
I’ve been feeding my toad. I found a spider for it.

James appears behind her and sees the red mark on her thigh.

MOTHER
Well, play with your little friend, we’re leaving for our picnic.

CLARE
Can’t I go?

MOTHER
It’s not safe.

JAMES
Why not, I’m a strong swimmer, I’ll look after her.

Mother wraps her arm around James’ arm.

MOTHER
I’ll let you look after me instead.

CLARE puts her toad into her blouse and follows them out.

EXT. LAKE - DAY

The woods appear darker than ever and the wind is furious as Mother and James carry the picnic basket between them. When they arrive at the dock, Father stands drinking from a booze bottle.

FATHER
All aboard for the deluge.

CLARE
Aren’t you taking life jackets?

FATHER
No, just umbrellas.

Just as they are about to shove off, Clare reaches into her blouse, takes out the toad and drops it secretly into the canoe.

CLARE
(whispering)
Do not harm James.

As they paddle off, James waves to Clare, Mother giggles, and Father drinks whiskey. The canoe moves away unsteadily across the gray lake and Clare’s face is shadowed in the stormy, her eyes staring at James as he paddles gracefully.

The beating hearts of Clare and the toad can be heard ever so slightly.

A few moments later, Clare realizes someone is watching her and turns to see a man standing in the outskirts of the woods...

MR. HURLBUT, late 60’s. He is a grungy, earthy, robust secretive type. He speaks calmly and without expression.

MR. HURLBUT
Your parents are making a mistake going out in this weather.

CLARE
They like to make mistakes.

MR. HURLBUT
Is that your Uncle James with them?

CLARE
Yes.

MR. HURLBUT
I thought he was a careful man.

CLARE
I don’t know, but he is a strong swimmer.

He scratches the dirty creases in his neck.

MR. HURLBUT
Well, I’ll patch that screen door up for you later.

He slings an axe over his burly shoulder and walks off.

EXT. CABIN - LATE AFTERNOON

CLARE sits in an old rocking chair on the porch, the wind whipping her hair across her face. Her eyes fixate on the darkening sky. She grips the chair tightly and her skirt blows up revealing the red mark on her leg. She stares at it and begins to tremble.

EXT. CABIN - SUNSET

The wind has completely died down and she sits in the chair tracing the mark on her leg with her finger.

James and Mr. Hurlbut walk up the porch steps, James’s wet clothes hang from his body.

His eyes gleam. A drop of lake water rolls slowly down his face into his smiling mouth.

EXT. GRANDMOTHER’S HOUSE - DAY

Sandwiched between skyscrapers in San Francisco’s financial district, is the impressive, narrow, 100 year-old 3-story mansion.

James smiles as he takes two very large suitcases out of the trunk of his red MG and carries them up the front steps.

At the top of the steps stand HIS WIFE, KATHERINE, 30’s, sweet, voluptuous, and naive, and HIS SON, KEITH, 11, quiet, curious and strange. James kisses Katherine on the cheek and Keith on the head. There is a general buzz of activity as they head inside.

CLARE stands at the base of the staircase, taking in every detail.

CLARE (V.O.)
This is how I came to live at Grandmother’s. It was built in 1886 and contains twenty-three mirrors. My favorite was the antique English one in the attic...

CLARE sighs and goes up into the house.

INT. ATTIC - NIGHT

James lies next to Clare on an oriental rug at the base of an old-fashioned standing mirror. He sighs as he cradles her head on his chest. On his forearm, is a black TATTOO of a spider in a web.

By candlelight, she holds a faded black and white picture of a ship in a harbor.

JAMES
You know, our family’s been ship’s chandlers since we first came here in the nineteenth century. We’ve supplied and sustained many generations of merchant seamen.

CLARE
I’ve never been on a ship.

She puts the photograph down and touches his lips as he talks.

JAMES
You know, men at sea perform acts that would be unacceptable to any other group of humans.

She sticks her finger in his mouth and he bites it.

CLARE
I’d like to go to England someday.

JAMES
By boat?

CLARE
I don’t think so.

JAMES
Maybe I’ll take you.

CLARE
(taunting)
You should go back to bed.

She starts to leave but he pulls her close. Her mouth curls up as he slowly unbuttons her nightgown. In the mirror is the reflection of James on his knees before her.

JAMES
You smell so good.

CLARE changes her expression, and focuses her energy, eyes unwavering, and the IMAGE CHANGES...

FRANCES APPEARS in the dusty mirror, middle-aged now, combing her hair on the edge of an antique wrought iron child’s bed.

FRANCES
You look beautiful dear.

CLARE gasps slightly, her eyes half closed in pleasure as James licks her throat.

FRANCES (cont’d)
Keep your eyes open.

CLARE inhales deeply and she fills with power, her stance and expression become strong and she looks at James almost with a smirk.

CLARE
I know.

James looks up from where he is happily lost.

JAMES
What?

She shakes her head, and speaks patronizingly yet sweetly.

CLARE
Nothing.

“Cutting” through the floorboards in the attic to:

INT. JAMES’ & KATHERINE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Katherine lies sleeping. There is the muffled sound of James moaning from upstairs and Katherine turns over in her bed and continues sleeping.

INT. KEITH’S ROOM - NIGHT

Keith lies sleeping, his pet snakes slither in their cage on the floor next to him.

INT. GRANDMOTHER’S ROOM - NIGHT

Grandmother sleeps on her back like a corpse with an old magical book open across her chest.

EXT. UPSTAIRS, ADJOINING BUILDING - NIGHT

An elderly man reads by the window, the curtains half drawn.

A miniature ship sits in his window.

PULL BACK to reveal:

EXT. GRANDMOTHER’S HOUSE/ADJOINING BUILDING - NIGHT

The light from the attic and the light from the man’s room next door are the only signs of life. The area is quiet and heavy, the wind blows through the streets. The man’s light goes out and the attic candle is all that shines...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Candles aglow on the mantle.

The living room clock chimes seven.

GRANDMOTHER, a youthful 60, elegant, slender and firm, walks down the staircase in a floor-length black dress, her body adorned with a tasteful antique necklace and earrings. Her hair is pulled back tightly in a bun which she touches occasionally.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

As she enters the dining room, James and Clare stand at one side of the table with Katherine across from him and Keith across from Clare.

Grandmother sits at the head of the table and everyone sits after she clears her throat and props her arms up neatly at the very edge of the tablecloth.

MR. TAYLOR, a nervous shy elderly servant serves the meal, handling the china very delicately, constantly glancing at Grandmother. No one touches their food until everyone is served and Grandmother has nodded, allowing Mr. Taylor to leave the room.

She looks at James, then Clare, then Keith, and lastly, Katherine. She appears to find something interesting in each of them, but only for a moment. She picks up her fork, and everyone picks up theirs, and they eat, in silence.

INT. HALLWAY - EVENING

From Clare’s P.O.V.: Mr. Taylor stands at the dining room door, listening apprehensively.

INT. DINING ROOM - EVENING

Grandmother slices a nice bit of lambchop and chews it carefully. James extends the wine bottle toward Grandmother.

JAMES
Mother?

She nods and watches as he pours more red wine in her antique glass. After a moment, she swallows some wine and begins speaking, to no one in particular, just for the joy of storytelling.

GRANDMOTHER
My English ancestors maintained a country home in the County of Essex during the sixteenth century. They had similar glasses, if not these very same ones we drink out of every night.

Everyone looks at their glasses differently now. Clare takes a drink of water from hers. Katherine lifts her wine-filled glass and offers it to Clare.

KATHERINE
You can have some of mine--

CLARE ignores her and instead picks up James’ glass and sips his wine. Grandmother shoots her a glare and she puts his glass down, and swallows.

GRANDMOTHER
And...in Essex, there were quite a few “cunning folk” who lived nearby. They kept to themselves, for the most part, but extraordinary occurrences seemed to take place whenever our ancestors got together with them. They are even quite famous now for these curious happenings.

She lifts her glass high.

GRANDMOTHER (cont’d)
A toast, to our ancestors.

Everyone lifts their glasses and clinks them delicately.

FRANCES (V.O.)
Salud! Salud!

CLARE looks around but no one sees or hears Frances.

INT. HALLWAY - EVENING

MRS. TAYLOR, a small round servant with pleasing cheeks and tiny lips, nervously hands her husband a silver tray with five silver bowls of pudding with five silver spoons. She scurries off and he takes a deep breath, then pushes through the door.

INT. DINING ROOM - EVENING

As MR. TAYLOR serves their dessert and cognac, Grandmother nods toward James who clears his throat before speaking.

JAMES
Clare, we have some good news for you.

A look of dread crosses her face.

JAMES (cont’d)
I’ve arranged to have a tutor come and live with us until you’re ready to return to school.

James smiles apprehensively, not looking at Clare. In her spoon, FRANCES APPEARS.

CLARE
That’s not necessary, I don’t ever intend to return to school.

Katherine smiles and begins blabbering, her tone completely out of place.

KATHERINE
I’m sure once we go shopping, and you get some fun new school clothes and maybe a haircut--oh and you’ll meet new girlfriends and see all the boys and oh it’s so much fun! I always just loved school, there’s nothing I loved more than that first day--

CLARE
Yes but I’m not you, am I.

Frances smiles at this and disappears.

CLARE catches Keith looking at her chest. He quickly looks down, spooning his dessert too quickly into his awkward mouth.

CLARE
So, who is the tutor?

KATHERINE
Her name is Miss Barton. She’s from England. Her accent is very smart.

GRANDMOTHER
She comes highly recommended and is especially good with European history, one of my favorite topics, and she is also a distant relative of ours. I’ve been corresponding with her about the family history.

James rests his hand on Clare’s thigh.

JAMES
I’m sure you’ll get along with her, she seems like an uncommonly imaginative person.

She discreetly removes his hand.

CLARE
I don’t suppose I have any choice.

GRANDMOTHER
She’s moving in next week on a trial basis, and I’ve arranged for her to stay in the spare bedroom on your floor.

CLARE frowns at this.

KATHERINE
At least give it a try Clare. It’ll be fun having her here.

Grandmother sips her cognac thoughtfully, then stands up and leaves the room, taking the glass with her.

Keith scrapes the end of his pudding and Clare offers him her full bowl. He spoons it greedily into his mouth and she leans over the table, her face in his.

CLARE
Be gentle with these spoons. You’re so rough.

He looks curiously at his spoon, then licks the pudding off it slowly and carefully.

INT. ATTIC - NIGHT

CLARE sits alone in front of the mirror with her legs crossed on the old carpet. Her image slowly fades and is replaced by Frances.

This time she appears as a young woman of 25, in a low-cut elegant violet evening gown, her lips a cool violet, with violet flowers adorning her hair. She smiles, and a faint trill of music is heard.

She smokes a CIGARETTE and inhales deeply then blows the smoke toward Clare, it goes THROUGH THE MIRROR and into her room! Clare is mesmerized and runs her fingers through the smoke, watching it swirl.

FRANCES
I was beautiful when I was young too.

CLARE smiles and is quite taken with Frances.

FRANCES (cont’d)
Men like James took great delight in me, even the upper class gentlemen invited me to their beds.

CLARE
I believe you.

FRANCES
My only power back then was the power of my appearance, and I traded that for strength. One is not the same as the other.

CLARE
I know.

FRANCES
Do you?

Slowly her features change and her violet dress darkens as she ages, appearing middle aged once again. She stretches her neck slightly and there, at the base of her throat, is the SAME RED MARK Clare has.

Suddenly, Frances is no longer beautiful and her face takes on a deep gray hue and her eyes lose their luster. Clare looks away from the mirror, displeased.

FRANCES (CONT’D)
As you wish.

Suddenly her face is replaced by Clare’s, who is unnerved by this.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

As she walks hurriedly toward her bedroom, she passes Keith who is holding a small bright-green snake.

He looks at her appearance and backs into his room, and she runs off and slams her door.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

She turns the light on and calms slightly as she sees her young, beautiful face in the mirror. She touches the unmarked spot on her neck where Frances’ mark had been.

IN THE BATHROOM MIRROR she moves back to her bed.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. BEDROOM - MORNING

IN THE MIRROR we see Clare on her back under the covers.

James speaks stiffly and loud enough for the whole house to hear.

JAMES (O.S.)
Time to get up, Clare.

Already wide awake, she pulls back the sheets revealing her naked body. He kneels at her bedside and reaches over and pulls her leg toward his mouth. He kisses the mark on her thigh.

KATHERINE (O.S.)
Clare?

CLARE
I’m up!

She pulls the covers back over her body and James stands up, licking the corner of his mouth.

JAMES
Your tutor comes today.

CLARE
Joy.

He leaves and she turns toward the mirror. Frances appears in modern day clothing, a GRAY CALF-LENGTH SKIRT and LONG SLEEVED PALE PALE LAVENDER BLOUSE.

FRANCES
Beware.

Then she vanishes.

CLARE
Frances? Frances.

Frances does not reappear and Clare looks at her own reflection, perturbed.

INT. BATHROOM - MORNING

She lies in a great marble tub, the steam rising. She doesn’t soap herself, she just floats there, her chin barely above water. She raises her leg and looks at her slender foot and toes, then lowers it back under water.

There is A KNOCK on the door and she closes her eyes.

CLARE
What.

Katherine pushes the door open.

KATHERINE
I thought you’d like to meet Miss Barton, Clare.

CLARE sits up in the tub, angrily, her back to them.

CLARE
I’m not ready yet.

MISS BARTON, 30, looks at the floor in modesty as she speaks.

MISS BARTON
Good morning Clare.

CLARE turns to look at Miss Barton and is almost afraid at the very sight...

She wears THE SAME GRAY CALF-LENGTH SKIRT and LONG SLEEVED LAVENDER BLOUSE THAT FRANCES last wore. She also looks very similar to Frances, though a bit heavier. Clare looks carefully at Miss Barton who doesn’t look up at her.

CLARE
Hello.

Finally, Miss Barton looks up and Clare stares her down until she looks away, nervously.

CLARE (cont’d)
You don’t enjoy games, do you?

MISS BARTON
What do you mean?

CLARE suddenly stands up in the bath.

CLARE
Could you hand me a towel, Miss? Miss Barton dutifully hands her a towel, her eyes again diverted. Clare wraps herself in it and steps out onto the floor, extending her wet hand in a greeting.

CLARE
How do you do Miss Barton, your first name isn’t Frances, is it?

She shakes Clare’s hand, then wipes her hand on her skirt.

MISS BARTON
No. My name is Anne. But I think it would be more appropriate for you to call me Miss Barton, don’t you think?

CLARE
I was just inquiring, Miss Barton.

She turns abruptly, pulls the plug out of the tub, and leaves the two women in the steamy bathroom behind her.

INT. LIVING ROOM - MORNING

Katherine gives Miss Barton a tour of the house. Clare follows them, watching her new tutor carefully.

MISS BARTON
You have such a lovely home, really.

KATHERINE
Oh, and this marlinespike, it’s from 1896, it was found on a ship...

Miss Barton smiles and nods politely as she follows Katherine into the next room.

CLARE picks up the marlinespike and grips it tightly in her hand. In the mirror above the fireplace, an image appears of a MAN DYING on the deck of a ship. He falls, gripping his bleeding stomach. The image fades and she puts the marlinespike back. Clare then follows the women on their tour.

FRANCES (O.S.)
Do not underestimate Miss Barton.

CLARE looks up to see FRANCES REFLECTED in a silver tray. She is on the ship, the sea air whipping through her hair.

CLARE
I’m not afraid of her.

FRANCES
You’ve noticed she looks like me.

CLARE
Yes, but she’s not strong like you are.

FRANCES
She is my descendant, and though many of my descendants have condemned me and denied me my power, they are not weak. I’m telling you, beware, Clare.

CLARE
I’ll be careful.

Her image fades and Clare picks up a piece of scrimshaw. She grips it tightly but no image appears in the mirror.

DISSOLVE TO: