November 1945: Nahum Marquez will die on the gallows. November 1975: Lucia returns to Barcelona from exile with the ashes of his father and the ghosts that enslaves her. Franco agonizes and, with him, a Spain that is represented by Ulysses, the commissioner, prepared to a final battle with his own decrepitude at the hands of an emerging Spain, Gilda and his friends’ one, that nothing own to the past except, perhaps, a little of romanticism.
The meeting between Lucia and the commissioner, feared but unavoidable, will face two worlds: the one of the living and the one of the dead who live on the backs of these.
For thirty years each character, who had a hand in the death of Nahum Marquez, has invented his own memories of how it was that story of love and torment. It is a fiction that allows them to live beyond what actually happened and that puts them safe from pain and their own responsibility. But Lucia is tired of running and lie. No longer can she carry the weight of the dead. She wants the truth, but the truth is like a mirror thrown against the ground: reality breaks into a thousand pieces. And others are not willing to allow it. They can not do that because that would be accepting the unacceptable: that for thirty years they have lived a lie without realizing that the world has long passed and left them on the platform. And if a death is covered with another death, silence becomes the best of the past.
This is a story about memory and how we built our past as we feel like.