After the war, Dr Aládar "Aldó" Kőrner (Károly Hajduk), at the age of 42, returns to his hospital practice. His wife and two small boys perished in the camps, and he lives alone, with only his medical journals for company, until Klára (Abigél Szőke), a 16-year-old rebel girl, appears in his life.
We first meet Klára in Aldó's clinic full of sharp sarcasm and reckless nature. Her life doesn't bring her any rays of happiness — she's dismissive of her school classes and classmates, unhappy in the home she shares with her always-worried great-aunt Ogi (Mari Nagy) and above all, in denial about the fate of her parents, to whom she continues to write long letters. She is bold and young and doesn't hesitate to seek the doctor's company or ask him controversial questions about his lifestyle and even his clothing choice. But Klára is also an intelligent old soul and her statement that "It's harder for us than those who left" resonates with Aldó. Klára also finds she can talk to Aldó about anything: religion, the past, her parents and the little sister that she feels guilty about being unable to save. Aldó, for his part, shares his pre-war photo albums with Klára — a beautifully directed, wordless scene. Once, when he gently touches her shoulder to cheer her up, she hugs him out of a desperate need for warmth and reassurance. This sort of compulsive physicality persists when, refusing to return to where she was staying, Klara essentially moves into Aldo's flat of her own accord.
Based on a 2004 novel by Zsuzsa F. Varkonyi, the film sets some very delicate issues, most centrally the age difference — but this is not another Lolita adaptation. In this movie we see a chaste, father-daughter love, a story about the coming of unlikely, unbidden hope. "Why do you live?" she asks him. "Is there any real answer to that?" he responds. But, despite all odds, they find a reason — together.