A fleeting smile of relief crossed his face as he answered quickly,
"All right. Sit up straight, Amal."
She obeyed with a stiff, unnatural movement, rising to sit on the bed, her body as rigid as a doll's.
The bishop turned to Miranda and ordered,
"Bring the incense and one candle, quickly."
Miranda nodded and hurried out of the room. She hurried down the stairs until she reached the living room. As she approached her own room, a whisper slipped into the silence near her door. She froze, her breath ragged, sweat beading on her forehead. The voice was close—so close—as if it were breathing from inside the room itself.
She grasped the doorknob and pushed it open. The lights flickered on at her touch, and her heart pounded, but the room was empty. No one. Nothing. She inhaled deeply, st
