Awakening from sleep in the apartment she shares companionably and platonically with Hercules, the nineteen-year-old son of her best friend, Isobel Albright idly caresses her breast. When she finds a tiny, sharp pebble of a lump hidden beneath her skin, she realizes, with great clarity, that her too reasonable, too predictable, too solitary life will be forever changed. From that moment on, the events that take place confirm her sense that the natural order of things is undergoing an irrevocable transformation. When the museum where she is curator burns to the ground, the artifacts smoldering in the rubble open a door to Isobel's rightful future - and to people and places unknown.