On the Upper East Side, even the apocalypse has a dress code.
Charmaine Starling is an Upper East Side housewife whose life is in crisis. She and her husband are in the middle of a messy divorce. He's dragging his feet on a settlement, and his mother-who controls the family purse strings-is pushing back on their prenup. If that weren't bad enough, Charmaine has just read that her husband, Darren, is holed up in a suite of rooms at The Carlyle with his mistress-whom Page Six is calling "The New Mrs. Starling." They've run pictures of the happy couple, and she has a pink diamond on her ring finger that is almost as large as her lack of shame.
Oh, yeah, there's also something sinister afoot. It seems like you can't go to a sit-down dinner without the host putting on a black hood and opening the room to a ritual sacrifice. But now something else is making the rounds-less Chanel, more contagion. A scourge. One that's spreading faster than gossip. People are getting sick, and bodies are missing from the morgue...
