A deafblind man pulls the trigger. Her husband falls. The board shifts. What follows isn't grief. It's awakening. Like a game she's played before and lost. A detective sees through her. And so does something older. Something darker.
After the flood, after the cataclysm, after the splitting of the veil. In the sacred stillness of the present moment, beneath the vast vault of sky, from deep within a wound in the earth, a bird sings out.