Eamon sat in the corner of the large conference room at the Possession Crimes Unit headquarters, feeling somewhat out of place among the seasoned agents and priests. The walls were lined with corkboards cluttered with photos, notes, and strings connecting various clues, a chaotic tapestry of their investigations. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting stripes of light across the polished wooden table where the team had gathered.
Sycamore stood at the head of the table, flipping through a thick folder, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was flanked by Cindy, Bryan, and Kit, all of whom wore expressions of focused determination. The atmosphere was charged with urgency, and Eamon could sense the weight of the case already pressing down on them.
