There's a crashing from Gran's room; the room that was going to be hers, before Dallas. Before even the walls and sconces aged themselves well past the wear and tear of the old Compton place. Tara and Eggs are smashing, destroying everything: perfume bottles, sentimental items. Whatever makes this place hers, or Grans, is gone. "Oh, tear it up," Eggs giggles, while Tara laughs. "It's paid for!" His voice is familiar.
Sookie snatches at Gran's knitting, but Tara won't let go. "I need it for the nest!" She whoops and carries it over to the bed, where an actual nest -- lovely, in a Pottery Barn self-consciously rustic way -- is taking shape around a giant egg. Actual egg, on the bed, in a nest, as Tara arranges the ribbons and threads and Eggs scatters feathers down onto it. And before Sookie can even comment on this latest ridiculous turn of events, a lacquered hand lays itself lightly across her shoulders: "I was looking for you," Lafayette smiles as she begins to scream. His eyes are black as night. The guide is gone.