"What have I failed to see?" Zara torments herself. "Is this why my father is dead? Is my unfinished karma the reason why he had to die?"
She re-enters the moment, that morning in Dublin airport, rain beating hard on windows of departures lounge, morning sun fighting dark clouds. She’s fleeing because she challenged his authority, the man falsely believing to be her father, a man having muted her mother to docility. Confusion questions, "Is woman’s deception the cause of man's tyranny?" Confrontation flashing the screen of her mind, "Have I killed him?" Feet running from house, lips repeating words from the Magus, “It is as it is; I have to accept it; I have to accept it.”
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