Ruth Usiskin sits on the chair next to the bed, leans back and crosses her legs, a gold chain and locket held loosely over her thigh. The bell in the tower clangs. Her patient, Donny Dakin, is sedated, fastened to the bed by leather restraints. Ruth holds the locket out in front of her, letting it swing freely before placing it in her palm. She turns it over, reads the inscription on the reverse: Forever. Ruth pushes her fingernail into the fissure and the locket springs open. Inside, is a lock of hair. There are flames and there is pain, and the world fades to black.
Ruth holds the locket out in front of her, letting it swing freely before laying it in her hand. She turns it over, reads the inscription on the back: Forever. She waits, her fingernail pressed against the opening. A crow sq
