At the very height of summer she becomes a storm, clouds rolling in so suddenly they seem to have always been there, and a world plunged into darkness. Some things will certainly die, and the crops and creatures too small to run will be delivered to her husband as a reminder that she still thinks of him.

When she was a newlywed the seasons were neatly divided like the heart that had to be sectioned off to survive, but the longer she is Our Lady of the Upside Down, the more she allows those petty distinctions to blur.