Robert and Xochitl had agreed never to bring work home, yet she turned away from his embrace to take a call from a never mentioned colleague. Against the surge of his emotion she had once euphemistically termed impatience, Robert heard their bedroom door become locked. On the following day, the solace of their love was shattered when her car plunged over the cliff into the Tujunga Canyon in northeast Los Angeles.
Knowing in his heart it’s not a suicide, Robert sets out to investigate what he believes is her murder. When an agent of Homeland Security confronts him about files deleted from her computer, he is assured of being on the right track and further examines her unpublished research in Genetic Anthropology. He suspects it may have exposed a threat to the recent resurgence of political interest in manned spaceflights to the moon.
In a book of poems kept in her desk, marks that Xochitl had made on its pages leads him to believe it contains allegorical clues to her death. As if spiritually guided on a cross-country journey, Robert unravels the love story of Curt, an astronaut, and his wife Claudia.
In the backdrop of the Cold-War in 1960s space exploration, Curt sets his life to duty and commitment, but is betrayed by the poems he wrote to Claudia. To safeguard his forbidden passion, Curt and Claudia weave a cocoon of silence that metamorphosis into devastating international consequences.
Robert must decide to honor Curt’s truth, or claim revenge on Xochitl’s murder.