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106 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2014

What was the point of having a demon work for you if he was silently, demonically plotting to kill you? He could kill you with brimstone and fire. He could fiendishly curse you to death. He could do his demon thing and swallow you whole and your soul would be lost forever.
Forever!
I thought about that for a while.
Sometimes in life, you had to take a risk for the great good.
I stepped to the phone, picked up and dialed the number.
Then I hung up.
I was such a coward. I took three deep breaths, and then picked up the phone again. My hand was so sweaty I almost dropped the phone.
I dialed.
My heart was racing during the beep… beep … beep.
Someone picked up.
...My wound from the day before had split open, and my skin was bloody and raw.
When you slipped on the wet floor, your knees hit hundred-year-old stone floors.
Mom always wondered why I tripped so often.
Maybe because I was busy looking at the ceiling anticipating an owl attack to bother what my feet were doing?
I liked the dungeon, the North Tower and the gallery was okay too, but I loved the kitchen best.
These days, we didn't do paintings of our family anymore.