Ben nods and I run to the window. The curtain still prickles with hidden electricity but I push it aside, not even gasping at the tingle that runs through my arm. He is right. The tree lies across the lawn, spreadeagled and destroyed.
A sob rises up in my throat.
It looks so helpless - that strong, live tree, now defeated and dead. Its leaves are charred black, as are its branches.
In the moonlight, the tears that fall from my cheeks are silver.