Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sylvie
Băjenie, Romania
In the time of the Black Plague,
the number of dead bodies often became so
great that they were burned instead of buried.
Some families couldn’t accept the necessity.
They hid their dead in closets,
attic rooms, cellars, or below baseboards.
They said it was out of love—but it was selfishness.
They paid for it. The sickness claimed them,
and they joined their loved ones in death.
~ The Bloodwalker’s Book
Sylvie squirmed across the mound of pallets on her belly, the wood shifting and creaking ominously under her.
Anushka, smaller and lighter, reached the edge and slid out of sight while Sylvie crawled slowly, feeling the pile shudder every time she placed a palm or knee on the rotten boards. With a sudden crack, the boards splintere
