CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Caitlin sat on her bed, staring down at the open container in surprise. Inside it lay a delicate scroll, curled up, and sealed in wax. On the wax was an insignia of a small, ancient cross, one which Caitlin immediately recognized as identical to the design of the small silver cross that she wore around her neck. Caitlin reached down and felt her necklace now as she looked at the symbol, and felt comforted to know that it was still there.
She reached out and took hold of the scroll. It was brittle, written on a hard parchment, and yellowing. It looked ancient.
She gingerly broke the seal, and unrolled it.
The first thing she noticed was that the scroll ended abruptly as she was halfway through unrolling it. She looked at the bottom, and saw the torn ridges, and she
