“Can’t you feel the thing that’s inside me?” she implored, and put his hand on my head. “A pious man such as yourself should be able to feel it.”
He tried to pull his hand away, frightened now, and Amy tightened her grip on his wrist. I could hear how restricted the flow of blood to his hand was. How long would it take for a hand to wither and die from lack of oxygenated blood?
“Can you feel it here then?” she asked, moving his hand over my heart.
“Let me go,” he said, trying to regain control of the situation.
“Look at my eyes,” she hissed. “Is this normal?”
“Contact lenses,” he said. “Many young people wear them now.”
He struggled to release himself from Amy’s grip. She pulled him closer still, until his nose almost touched mine.
“You can perform an exorcism, can’t you?”
“No, I c
