Is Brigitte a loving wife and mother, or a cold-blooded killer?

Kurt Cobain stands at the top of the stairs, wearing the brown sweater. ‘Please don’t leave me,’ she yells up at him. But it’s too late; he’s turning away as the tram slows for the stop out on the street. Then she’s lying on the road. Car tyres are going past, slowly. Somebody is screaming. A siren howls. Sweet voices of little children are singing ‘Morningtown ride’.

Nobody knows why she was in the east of the city so early on the morning she was left for dead by a hit-and-run driver. It was the Thursday before Christmas 1994, and police discovered the body of a man beaten to death in her apartment.

Fourteen years later, Brigitte is married to the detective who investigated the murder, which she claims to have lost her memory of in the car accident. They have young twins, and seem to be a happy family. Until the reopening of the cold case.

Please Don’t Leave Me Here
is about loss, love and lies. It is about pain, fear, and memory. And, above all, it is about letting go.