One of a handful of impressive young female playwrights currently working in Scotland, Nicola McCartney has an almost forensic interest in family relations, and a rare skill in dramatically cutting to the heart of this universal matter. Sometimes, as in her play earlier this year, Home, her story-telling instincts are compromised by a too-stylised use of poetic language, jarring stuff that can undo the emotional pull of her narrative.

But not here, in a new play for the Brunton, a few miles outside of Edinburgh but well worth the journey. That forensic attention to the ties that bind us all takes centre stage in a powerful three-act play looking back over the life of one woman from the post-mortem table, in glimpses from the present day, the early 80s and 1951.

A small cast takes parts in each time frame - daughters become mothers, sons become fathers - underlining the play's fascination with fate and the way genetics and destiny might mix to make a life. This works well, drawing the audience into the puzzle of loose ends and clues that a pathologist throws out from the body of evidence before him - a baby an elderly woman doesn't want to talk about, a genetic defect we see the tragic results of long before we know the cause.

He does this from high up, towering above the players, scrubbed up in front of a blinding white backdrop. It's like the blank sheet we all start with, and the light at the end of the tunnel of life we're all chaotically heading for. Both of these - the blank beginning and the last light - and everything in between, McCartney dramatises with an emotional precision that will take your breath away.

Till August 26. Box office: 0131-665 2240.