Five years before the kidnapping

Marissa and Peter arrive home with newborn Milo. Like any couple, they try to adjust to sleepless nights and a radically altered routine. At first, Peter helps. Gradually, however, the burden of care shifts almost entirely onto Marissa’s shoulders. Exhaustion turns into resentment. Resentment turns into distance. The fracture in the marriage does not begin with the kidnapping — it was already there.

In the present day, two days after Milo’s disappearance, Marissa slips into a state of quiet obsession. The lack of news consumes her. She and Peter barely speak, especially after he blamed her for being “careless.” Pain becomes accusation.

Jenny recalls how helpful Carrie had been, almost indispensable, and how deeply Jacob had grown attached to her. Without the nanny, Richie doesn’t alter his routine by a single inch, leaving Jenny even more overwhelmed. When it is revealed that Carrie was using a false name, once again the blame shifts to Jenny — the mistake of trusting, the mistake of hiring her in the first place.

And by now, we already hate Richie. It comes easily. He is sexist, selfish, and utterly incapable of assuming any domestic or emotional responsibility.

Can I say there’s a bit of miscasting in the series? Jake Lacy and Thomas Cocquerel already come with a track record of playing awful men — Lacy in the first season of The White Lotus and Cocquerel as Tom Raikes in The Gilded Age.

Lia and Brian discuss the investigators’ questions and the unbearable tension between Marissa and Peter after his cruel decision to blame his wife for their son’s disappearance. Everyone heads to the press conference. The couple breaks down in tears in front of the cameras — and it is Marissa who physically and emotionally supports Peter as he nearly collapses.

The detectives are unsettled by the lack of concrete leads, until a detail shifts the investigation: Carrie and Peter took the same day off. At the same time, at school, parents warn Jenny that sooner or later the blame will land squarely on her for having hired the nanny who kidnapped Milo.

As if that weren’t enough, the internet enters the story with its usual cruelty. Marissa and Peter are harassed, judged, and publicly condemned. Lia, volatile as ever, only escalates the chaos. Jenny, meanwhile, remains the only person capable of listening to Marissa without accusation. In what seems like a casual comment, she mentions that investigators asked whether Carrie had taken time off on the 25th.

The remark triggers something. Marissa remembers a particular weekend when Peter said he couldn’t help with Milo because he would be at a conference, also on the 25th. He lied. Marissa asks Colin whether he knew of any affair. Colin says no — but admits he wouldn’t be surprised.

Meanwhile, Alcaras and Greco begin re-interviewing everyone, extracting new contradictions, including from Ana’s updated statement. Peter begins to look more implicated than anyone else. Greco appears uneasy with that possibility. Alcaras does not. Calmly, he considers the most unthinkable scenario of all: a father involved in his own child’s disappearance.

Peter treats his siblings with open contempt, telling them to continue being “inconvenient” so he has something to occupy himself with. Soon after, he receives a message he keeps to himself. We then see him negotiating Milo’s ransom. Or something that looks very much like it.

At the press conference, Marissa is torn apart by the media. Reporters suggest the entire ordeal was staged to become a book someday. Peter already knew the angle of the coverage, and once again allowed his wife to take the hit. The couple argues in front of Alcaras. Peter denies having an affair with Carrie or any other woman. The lie about the 25th, he claims, was related to a negotiation meant to help his brother Brian. That message and negotiation? In reality, it was an attempt to bribe a journalist into killing a story attacking Marissa.

They reconcile. The detective hears everything.

In the conversation that follows, yet another woman emerges as the scapegoat of an old tragedy: Brian is disabled because of an accident caused by Lia. It also becomes clear that Peter’s siblings are financially dependent on him — and on the money he and Marissa earn together. To make matters worse, Carrie’s abandoned car is found in a remote area. For Alcaras, the conclusion is unavoidable: she is not acting alone.

Jenny remains Marissa’s only real emotional anchor. Together, they connect dots the police have not yet joined: every Tuesday, Carrie and Ana bought milkshakes for Jacob and Milo. The two women knew each other. They were friends.

In the episode’s final moments, we finally see Carrie. She is staying in an isolated house, hair dyed, makeup altered, assuming a new identity. Ana leaves in tears. Milo is there, calm, at ease, as if nothing were wrong. The property owner knocks on the door using the spare key Carrie requested.

She is waiting for someone.