THE DEVIL'S PREY
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Sarah's pale form lay motionless on the bed, her breathing shallow, each exhale a struggle. Each exhale like she was taking her last breath.
Francesca held Sarah's cold hand in her own, her tears falling freely onto the bed sheets. "You're not going anywhere, Sarah," she whispered fiercely, as though her words alone could heal her or bring her back to normal.
Jericho leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his face a mask of frustration and helplessness. "This is insane. We can't just sit here and do nothing."
Madam Tessa sat nearby, her fingers trembling as she clutched her rosary. "I've never seen him like this before," she murmured, more to her. "Xavier... he's shutting himself off completely. He's the only one who can talk to godfather."
