Celeste lived in solitude for well over a century—never a word about her true identity, never a hint about her bloodthirst to anyone. A hundred freezing winters have come and gone. Flowers have bloomed and withered as many times. Given the loneliness and the fatigue from hiding her true self, is it such a big surprise that she told the truth, for once, in response to an incredibly honest question? But soon, the uncontrollable fallout from her simple, truthful answer unfolds.