Close Your Eyes Stop Planning

In the gutted shell of a house bought for "later," a woman tears apart walls to avoid tearing apart herself, while her patient husband Kai watches her flinch and flee from every tender approach. Through plaster dust and blistered palms, he coaxes her into stillness, eyes closed, shirt stripped away, finally surrendering to his quiet dominance in the only space already broken enough to hold her. Just as she lets go completely, headlights sweep the bare windows, and two silhouettes cross the dark yard: her mother, and the father she has spent a lifetime refusing to recognize.