ALEXANDER
I didn’t leave anything out.
This wasn’t the time for that.
If I was going to sit here and ask Helen for answers—answers I wasn’t even sure I wanted—I couldn’t afford to hold anything back.
So I told her.
Everything.
Starting with the dream.
About how Faye had described it—how it wasn’t just a dream she could brush off, but something that had pulled at her.
I tried to put it into words she could understand.
“She said she heard something first,” I began, my voice steady, though my mind wasn’t. “A voice, chanting. In a language she didn’t understand.”
Helen didn’t interrupt.
She just watched me.
Listening.
“And she followed it,” I continued. “Like she didn’t have a choice. Like the voice was pulling her toward it.”
Even saying it out loud was strange.
It sounded wors
