We Were Liars Season 1, Episode 3 Review: ‘The Ties Were Black, The Lies Were White’

Grief is messy.

It’s raw, it’s uncomfortable, and no one really gets through it untouched. But it’s part of life—one of those things we all face, even if we’d rather not.

In Episode 3 of We Were Liars, we’re diving deep into the many faces of grief and the different ways it shows up. No one enjoys funerals. No one wants to sit with pain. But pain, like everything else, has its place in the story of life.

The cycle of life is strange—we all know death is inevitable, yet grief feels deeply personal, unique to each of us. It can break you, reshape you, or even push you forward. But one thing’s for sure: it changes you.

We’ve reached the aftermath of Tipper’s death. Her funeral isn’t just hard to watch—it’s revealing. Grief strips away the masks, and what’s left isn’t always pretty.

Tipper lived for peace and quiet. Ironically, on the day meant to honor her, there’s anything but. The air is thick with fighting, anger, and, of course… lies.

Because there are always lies.

HARRIS & THE STRUGGLE WITH CHANGE

The Sinclairs don’t really know how to just be. Everyone’s carrying their own agenda, even if we can’t quite see what it is yet. That’s their version of normal.

Harris is a shell of himself without Tipper. He’s bitter and withdrawn, almost relieved to disappear into the background. But when Cadence walks in, there’s a flicker—he briefly comes alive. Then he shuts down again.

Cadence isn’t letting anything go. She wants answers, and she’s not afraid to confront the family to get them. When she lashes out at Harris, it’s Aunt Bess who steps in—not to scold, but to protect. She sees that Cadence isn’t okay and gently pulls her away.

Cadence wants things to go back to the way they were. But the house has erased all traces of the past—and of Tipper. Summer 16 and 17 Cadence is bold, determined, and a little lost. She knows the truth is somewhere buried in her memories. She just has to find it.

Even if no one else wants her to.

SHE’S ON A MISSION

Cadence remembers everything up until Tipper’s funeral. Being back on the island seems to help—but it’s hard not to wonder if remembering is worth it. Will the truth actually make things better? Or will it break her all over again?

Now that she knows there are gaps in her memory, it’s impossible not to feel for her. Living with that kind of blank space… it’s haunting. Especially in a family like the Sinclairs, where secrets are standard and silence is a survival tactic.

Gat seems scared. If Cadence remembers Tipper’s funeral, she might also remember Raquel. And what that means.

But in classic Cadence fashion, she lets him off the hook. Not because she isn’t hurt—but because she has bigger things on her mind. She’s not interested in past betrayals. She wants the truth. About herself.

TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

She knows they’re still keeping things from her—but when Cadence asks about Tipper’s funeral, it isn’t just about filling in a gap in her memory. This time, it’s about them. All of them. So why shouldn’t she know?

The Liars agree. It’s heavy. It’s not a moment they want to relive. But they say yes, after all they want Cadence to find her way back to herself. And that path starts with the truth—even when it has the potential to break them all.

Summer Seventeen is now—but Summer Sixteen held the funeral. They aren’t supposed to talk about summer sixteen.

Gat hadn’t wanted to go. His fights with Cadence and Johnny were still too raw. And maybe it’s selfish—to walk away when things get hard. But that’s who Gat has been: complicated, torn, human. The kind of character that makes you love him and hate him in the same breath. That’s what makes him feel real.

Still, showing up mattered. For Tipper. For Cadence. But most of all for himself.
If he hadn’t been honest with her about Raquel—if he had kept running—there would’ve been no coming back from that. And he knew it.

But Gat wanted to walk a line that doesn’t really exist. He wanted to keep Cadence in his life as a friend, while still holding onto the parts of her he loved. The problem is, he never figured out how to make that work. Not when their worlds were built so differently. Not when he was busy making decisions for her instead of with her.

And Cadence? She’s shutting down—but she’s also pushing forward. Watching her now, we know: she won’t ever really give up on Gat. But for once, maybe she deserves to let go. To love herself first.

The space between them hurts. It hurts her. It hurts him. But the question lingers: does Gat miss her? Or is he just trying to ease his own guilt? The world may never know.

SEXTERS AND COUSINS

The funeral and the celebration of life that follows hit harder for the Moms than it does for the Liars. While the Liars are keeping their heads down, the Moms are doing the opposite—fighting, posturing, unraveling in real time.

Penny makes a quiet, telling choice: she decides not to bury the black pearls with her mother. Instead, she wears them herself. Those pearls were meant to go with Tipper, but Penny couldn’t bring herself to let them go. Whether that’s grief, guilt, or greed is up for interpretation—but it speaks volumes.

It’s their mother’s funeral, and they’re already fighting over what they’ll get. Forget that Harris, their father, is still very much alive. He’s not grieving quietly—he’s watching, and he’s had enough. He sees exactly how much his daughters have taken advantage over the years, and this is the final straw.

So, he cuts them off. No more money. No more pretending that their dysfunction is normal.

Grief is messy—we all know that. But this family? They’re actively choosing the mess.

Harris isn’t about to have this. He’s found just how much his daughters have taken advantage and decides to cut them off. No more money for them.

THE SEXTER

Then there’s Blake. Johnny’s long-time enemy, showing up to the funeral out of nowhere. And what knocks us completely off our chairs? Blake is the sexter. The one Mirren had been messaging. The one she was scared would pressure her into sex.

Seriously—who goes to a funeral with that kind of energy? It’s not just inappropriate; it’s gross. This isn’t a party. Someone has died. People are grieving. And Blake walks in like it’s his chance to “bag a Sinclair”? No.

Even worse, Johnny lies to Cadence. He says the reason Mirren ghosted Blake is because she caught them making out. Why would he say that? And why is Mirren so quick to forgive?

Family or not, it doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong here.

And then, in Summer Sixteen, it makes sense even more. The water taxi guy tells Cadence that Blake had been bragging on the boat about how he wanted to “bag a Sinclair.” Like it was some kind of prize.

Some things don’t need to be repeated. Some things are just cruel. But everything begs the question, what are people hiding?

I can’t be mad at Mirren for being hurt and lashing out at the driver. We all know that things like that aren’t right, but I have to admit that there is an understanding as to why she did it. Pain makes us all lash out.

That’s just what makes us human.

I AM MAD BECAUSE…

At some point, Cadence is going to have to stop letting Gat off the hook. He deserves to sit with what he’s done. He deserves to feel the weight of it—how he’s created chaos, how he’s left emotional wreckage in his wake.

Gat apologizes—again. And honestly? I can’t decide if it matters anymore. His apologies seem empty, but how many time are we going to have to go down the road that leads to the same words. It feels forced.

I’ve loved Gat. I’ve defended him. He’s one of my favorite characters because he’s so layered. But watching him make the same mistakes over and over again is exhausting. He doesn’t seem to grow from them. Instead, he falls back into playing the victim. And that’s just not who he is — it’s not who I want him to be.

I am sure that the writers have a plan. I’m just not patient.

Gat wants to belong. He wants to be seen as good, helpful, reliable. But in trying so hard to fit in, he keeps losing himself—and seems to be basing his worth on what the Sinclair’s think of him. He’s got to stop making excuses – hurting both him and Cadence in the process.

During their conversation, he gets so caught up in his emotions that he forgets he’s supposed to be watching the dogs. They bolt into the memorial gathering – ruining things and create chaos—because of course they do.

But what really mattered in that moment wasn’t the dogs. It was Cadence finally telling Gat the truth: she’s upset because he made her feel something. She was in love. It was written all over her face, in every glance, every pause.

And Gat? He’s still making excuses.

Will You Help Me?

It’s Summer Seventeen. Gat wants Cadence to trust him. He says all the right things—but he’s done nothing to earn that trust. Every memory Cadence regains just gives her another reason not to believe him.

Yet to remember the past—she needs to trust someone.

She had asked the Liars about the funeral because she remembered it. She wanted to see who would be honest with her. Her cousins weren’t.

And Gat? He takes that moment and flips it on her. He calls her a liar.
Technically she is, but it’s frustrating. Sir, those in glass houses should not throw stones.

Gat continues to be a walking contradiction—sincere but selfish, brave but avoidant. And Cadence, despite everything he’s done and continues to do, is still looking for someone who’ll tell her the truth. He seems like the best choice.

That’s ironic.

We Were Liars is streaming now on Prime Video.