Chapter Forty-Seven ▏The Shift

The world seems to have frozen for a millisecond, allowing time itself to slow down and almost sputter to a stop. It's almost in frame by frame that I see my nails digging into the priest's robes, ripping the fabric and exposing his chest. The tips of my nails graze his skin, leaving long open lines that spurt crimson seemingly everywhere.

Sheer shock makes me stumble back. Disgust makes me get down on the platform. And fear, so thick and so opaque that it's blurring my vision, makes me bolt towards the exit.

As I run, I hear the priest's body hit the floor when he falls unconscious. I hear the gasps of Father and Uncle Osman. Then, I hear the swift footsteps of Hendrik behind me.

"Elora, don't run!" he says in a panic, trying to grab my arm. "Elora!"

I don't listen to him. I keep running, reaching the arched door and bursting into the early morning like a bird freed from its cage.

The cold wind caresses my face, making my skin feel tingly, perhaps a