Even at his promise, which she trusted with her life, Elsie shook in her slippers at the prospect of someone else coming around the corner to see what she had to show her brother. She hesitated only for a moment before Rory pushed his way into her room. She’d have squeaked in protest had she not been so horrified at the state of her being. The witch skittered backwards, sliding her robe sleeves over her arms and lacing her hands behind her back. Thank the Lord the drapes were still partially shut.

Elsbeth shifted uneasily on her feet. Rory remained at the door, looking over her, seemingly satisfied there seemed to be nothing fatally wrong with her. But what would his reaction be once she showed him? Or even more horrifically - what if he couldn’t see what she saw? What if this was something she could only see, and she was committed to an insane asylum because of it?

She could see no way out.

“I - I was exploring the other night and I came across something. A - library of some sorts. And I eventually found my way into a small alcove, and I f-found a b-book…” She said, looking towards the book on her bed. “Well nothing seemed to be amiss but then I just woke up this morning and -”

With her hands shaking violently, Elsie slowly put them in front of her, moving to push up the sleeve of her left arm. It was riddled with small patches of gold, shining through clearly as day; if it were broad daylight, Elsie was sure her skin would be glinting. It burned. It ached.

A sob caught in her throat.