I work with words and with silence. With the unspoken. With secrets, regrets, shame. With the irrevocable, with the fading, with memories. I work with the pain of yesterday and the pain of today. With revelations. And with the fear of death. All this is part of my profession.

But if there is something in my work that continues to surprise, even astound, something that even today, after more than ten years of practice, sometimes takes my breath away, it is undoubtedly the longevity of the pain experienced in childhood. The sting of a wound that does not heal over many years. The bitterness of resentment that is not erased from memory.

Speech therapist Jerome is trying to help an elderly lady named Misha, who is losing her words day after day. But something else haunts Misha: she never thanked the married couple who saved her during World War II. She doesn't even know their last names, but she asks her ward, Marie, to place an ad in the newspaper. Is there a chance that Misha will finally be able to find these people and express his gratitude to them? And will she have the words to do so?