In the heart of Gehenna, 1942, under the watchful gaze of the moon, a tale of unexpected connection unfolds. Delilah, a tender of hearth and home, finds her world touched by the hands of fate. Mettie, her husband, a man of the earth, brings a wanderer, Salome, and her child, Silas, into their haven. Cast out from a traveling carnival, Salome seeks solace and finds it in the unexpected kindness of strangers.

The bar, a nexus of lives, hums with the mundane rhythms of war-era existence. Amidst the clatter of glasses and the murmur of voices, a sacred drama unfolds. Salome, with eyes like ancient pools and a spirit as fierce as any goddess, faces the harsh judgment of onlookers while providing for her child. Delilah, guided by compassion, extends her protection, creating a sanctuary for mother and child.

The switchblade, a symbol of Salome’s fierce independence, pierces the veil of societal expectations, silencing the voices of disrespect and ignorance. In this moment, a bond is forged between women, a recognition of shared strength and resilience. As Salome nourishes Silas, both with breast milk and spirit, Delilah and Mettie recognize that they have welcomed more than just strangers; they have welcomed a sacred charge into their lives. The night ends with a silent agreement. Salome is one of the family now.