Renata de Souza receives a letter in the mail every year. No return address. Just a different fruit peel every time inside - dried, cracked, bitter.
The same way she feels inside every time she receives it.
On the 17th letter, she is given instructions.
The locals say what she has to do is a suicide begging to happen. She says it’s what she must.
The truth is worse than either.
But to whom she must?