“The words were foreign. Jumbled together, almost like a chant, but definitely words. I had excelled in studying ancient and dead languages as well as modern ones, but I hadn’t even recognized the rhythm of the words” Annabel muttered, letting out a deep breath.

 It was obvious that she was tired. Emma was too. She couldn’t wait for the plane to come to rest. She needed to see Amelia. She wondered what style of hair her sister would be carrying now. It’s been ages.

Ben staggered up to the other side of Annabel's chair, pressing his hands to his ears. "Something's wrong," he hissed. "This is about her. Something evil...