Cedar has nearly forgotten what her family looks like. Phoenix has nearly forgotten what freedom feels like. And Elsie has nearly given up hope. Nearly. As Cedar floats between foster homes, and eventually goes to live with her estranged father, she grapples with the pain of being separated from her mother, Elsie, and sister, Phoenix. From a youth detention centre, Phoenix gives birth to a baby she’ll never get to raise, and finds herself trying to—or wondering if she even should—forgive herself for all the harm she’s caused. Elsie, struggling with addiction and determined to turn her life around, is buoyed by the very idea of being reunited with her daughters and strives to be someone they can depend on, unlike her own distant mother, Margaret. These are the Strangers, each of them haunted in their own way by the death of Elsie’s youngest daughter, Sparrow, a sweet, boisterous 8-year-old who died suddenly of pneumonia, leaving the family reeling from the weight of her loss. Between flickering moments of warmth and support, the women diverge and reconnect, fighting to survive in a fractured system that dares them to succeed, but expects them to fail. Facing the distinct blade of racism from those they trusted most, and a severe ignorance that surrounds them and confines their every move, they urge each other to move through the darkness, all the while wondering if they will ever emerge on the other side.