A young woman stands alone in a quaint country kitchen, washed in the waning sunlight streaming through the wooden blinds. Shoulders hunched guiltily, she reaches into a glass jar full of pignolias on a dusty shelf. The camera angle is from behind her, focused on the jar and her hands as she shoves a handful of nuts into her pocket. Tobacco smoke tinges the air, giving the scene a dreary, muted color palette of browns and olives. The shot progressively widens, showing the imbalance of the small figure against the cluttered room. An ominous creak from a loose floorboard echoes around the room, building tension. The scene is teeming with a depth of resigned resignation, a symphony of overlooked details telling a story: a forgotten past and a guilty present.