A gritty home video camera flashes on the screen. It’s a child behind the lens, yelling out to his mother while she drives over a busy bridge. They see a woman run barefoot across the lanes. She starts to climb over the railing. Though the mother’s car stops her car to plead with the woman, it’s too late. She lets go of the ledge and disappears. And that’s all in the first minute of The OA.

This is what writers Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij do. They create stories that suck the viewer in and keep them gripped until the end credits roll. The eight-episode psychological thriller is the pair’s first (literal) dive into TV, but they have long been indie movie darlings—straddling the line between sci-fi and psychological thriller. Flicks like The East and Sound of My Voice left me with lingering thoughts in the days following. Like their previous offerings, I expected The OA to have heart, intelligence, and a whole lot of shocking moments, and the film-making pair delivered.

The woman who jumps? Her given name is Prairie (played by Brit) and the last time her adopted parents saw their daughter was seven years ago until they reunite in the hospital days after the jump. Praire doesn’t even recognize them, but not because she doesn’t remember them. She was blind when they adopted her, never actually seeing her parents until this seemingly-miraculous moment.

Personally, I believe that what makes great storytelling is not knowing what will happen next. The first episode introduces such a dense plot with a number of complex characters, that the possibilities for the next seven episodes are endless. Why did Prairie disappear? How did she regain her vision? Is she even sane?

The plot takes form slowly, drop-by-drop like a light drizzle, but it’s only a matter of time until the narrative mutates into a storm.