Claire Ellison felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that alerted her to a battle being waged. She looked up from the Bible in her lap to the dying flames in the hearth. “What?” she whispered.
She waited for some sort of revelation, direction, or conviction, and sat motionless, silencing the comforting creak of her old rocking chair. Her heart suddenly jumped with anticipation and flooded with confidence. Her hands trembled, not with fear, but with boldness and courage.
The house maid came to the door. “Do you need anything before we tuck the house in for the evening?” She saw Claire’s eyes and kneeled beside the arm of the chair. “Miss Claire, how can I help?”
“You can alert the staff to be watchful. I’m not sure why, but I hope they will humor an old woman.” She smiled and closed the leather volume, handing it to the maid. Then she rose slowly from the rocking chair. “Please go get Varon and be ready for the emergency plan.”
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