Trauma

In the rain‑slick outskirts of Minneapolis, an unsettling quiet settles over a modest home where the past refuses to stay buried. Aura Petrescu, a young woman haunted by the grip of anorexia, has just fled the sterile walls of a treatment clinic and returned to the family she left behind. Her arrival is marked by a fragile hope for safety, yet the atmosphere feels heavy with unspoken dread, as if the very air knows that recovery will demand more than medicine.

Her mother, Adriana, a woman whose grief has turned into an obsession with the unseen, gathers friends for a midnight séance, convinced that something—perhaps even someone—among them holds murderous intent. The ritual, conducted in dim candlelight, casts eerie shadows that mirror the fractured trust between mother and daughter, while Stefan, Aura’s father, watches with a quiet resignation that hints at secrets long kept. The home becomes a liminal space where the ordinary and the occult brush shoulders, setting a tone that is both intimate and unnervingly mysterious.

Enter David Parson, a compassionate stranger whose chance encounter with Aura on a bridge sparks a tenuous friendship. Drawn by her vulnerability, he offers a steady, if somewhat bewildered, presence that contrasts sharply with the oppressive gloom of her household. As David becomes more entwined with Aura’s world, his own doubts surface, hinting at deeper layers of the town’s hidden currents and the personal demons each character wrestles with.

Together, Aura and David stand at the edge of a darkness that feels both personal and universal—a secret waiting to be uncovered beneath the veneer of family rituals and suburban normalcy. The film teeters between psychological tension and atmospheric horror, inviting the audience to wonder what lies just beyond the flickering candlelight and whether the truth can ever truly set them free.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 13:33