Frida, Laia Artigas, moves from Barcelona to a quiet countryside home to live with her adoptive parents, Marga and Esteve. The journey is intimate and tense at times, framed by small rituals that tether Frida to memories of her mother. Her grandmother, Isabel Rocatti, reinforces a sense of connection by teaching Frida the family prayer and handing over a card from Frida’s mother’s first communion, a keepsake that mirrors the mother’s presence in the child’s life. Soon after settling in, Frida discovers a statue of the Virgin Mary tucked away in a dirt-cleared space in the woods, a recurring motif throughout the film. She returns to this spot often, leaving tiny offerings—cigarettes, and a polka-dotted garment—as tokens for a mother she can barely remember.
In the domestic rhythm that follows, a thread of illness hangs over the household. In a meat shop, Marga hints at Frida’s mother’s frail condition, suggesting pneumonia without ever confirming it. A later car scene finds Frida scratching an itch on her arm, an ordinary discomfort that underscores a growing unease. Marga urges her to stop scratching and asks what’s really wrong, and Frida confides that she’s bothered by her hair. The moment is small, but it nods to a deeper fragility that threads through their days. A doctor’s visit follows, with talk of more tests to confirm earlier results, casting a pall over the sense of safety Frida has begun to build.
Back home, the two girls—Frida and Anna—quickly slip into play, though the mood remains unsettled. Frida experiments with makeup and a fur boa as Anna looks on, and their pretend game shifts to mother and child. When Anna asks Frida to play along, Frida resists, saying she’s too sore and promising they’ll play later. The scene closes with Frida praying again over her mother’s communion card, a private ritual that grounds her in memory even as the present demands attention.
Frida’s world broadens when she meets Irene, a classmate living in a different rhythm from the others. They talk on a playground, but Irene’s answers come with movement away from Frida, a subtle signal of social dynamics that Frida begins to sense. Irene’s mother chides the interaction, while Marga intervenes, asking Irene’s mother to keep things discreet. The moment captures a clash between childhood innocence and the social boundaries that adults impose.
A visit from Frida’s grandparents—Avi [Fermí Reixach] and Àvia [Isabel Rocatti]—reframes the family’s expectations. Marga asks Frida to tie her own shoes, a small act that Frida initially refuses, preferring help from her grandfather. The elder couple also revisits the prayer and the memory of Frida’s mother, though her mother’s past decisions are described as flawed by the grandmother, adding another layer to Frida’s search for belonging. The grandmother’s visit also brings a sense of ritual, with Lola, [Montse Sanz], appearing in a later scene and offering a softer, more maternal presence that contrasts with the strictness Frida experiences at home.
That night, Frida’s relationship with Anna deepens in a different way: Anna dances with Esteve, marking a moment of tenderness that is overshadowed by Frida’s own sense of isolation. The next day, Frida’s world grows increasingly complex as she leads Anna into the forest and asks her to hide, a game that goes awry and ends with Anna returning with a cast on her arm. The adults—Marga and Esteve—express concern, debating boundaries while Frida’s behavior remains morally ambiguous in their eyes. Esteve defends Frida but agrees to set firmer limits, a moment that highlights the strain between care and control within the family.
As the days pass, everyday routines intertwine with unsettling signs. Frida asks to go swimming, and Esteve momentarily delays, signaling a constant push-pull between care and autonomy. A sequence shows a sheep being slaughtered and people dancing to live music, providing a stark contrast between natural life and social celebration, with Frida perched on a bench watching the others—an observer amid activity.
Frida’s sense of love and belonging is further tested when she rejects a blue nightdress from her grandmother in favor of a pink one that Anna receives. The stubbornness strains the adults’ patience, particularly Marga, who insists Frida wash the dress and drink her milk. The household’s emotional undercurrents rise to the surface during a family visit when Frida expresses a wish for Lola to stay; the moment crescendos as Esteve must physically remove Frida from the car, signaling a painful separation and a loss of security.
That night, Frida packs up dolls and toys, steals fruit from the kitchen, and quietly contemplates leaving. Anna asks where she’s going; Frida responds that she’s returning home because she believes no one loves her there, and she even hands Anna her Barbie before stepping into the dark. The adults frantically search for her, and Frida remains hidden behind the house, contemplating a possible departure that ultimately does not happen. She tells her family she plans to leave the following day, but night falls, and the moment of flight is deferred.
In the final stretch, Frida helps prepare her math book for school, and the conversation shifts to her mother’s death. Marga explains that a virus caused the illness that took her mother, and she describes how hard the doctors tried, though they could not cure the virus. Frida probes further—whether her mother bled during the illness and whether her mother had any last words—and Marga answers with patient honesty, acknowledging the absence of words in those final moments. Frida then asks if Marga herself might fall ill, and Marga reassures her that she won’t.
The film closes with a tender, painful scene: Esteve, Anna, and Frida lie together on a bed in new nightgowns, a fragile moment of closeness that is interrupted by Frida’s sudden sobs. The adults gather around her, trying to soothe and understand, while the camera lingers on the family’s closeness and fragility, the sense that love and memory are the fragile threads that hold them together. The closing image circles back to the bed, a quiet, intimate tableau that suggests both the weight of what has happened and the uncertain, enduring hope of what lies ahead for Laia Artigas and the family she inhabits.
