Chapter 17

Helen stumbled through the dense forest, the red clay of Agbor clinging to her boots like blood-soaked hands. The shadows stretched toward her, gnarled and grasping, as if the trees themselves hungered for her soul. Mike’s parting words—“God save your soul”—reverberated in her mind, a taunt laced with chilling prophecy. Her breath hitched, shallow and ragged, as she pushed forward, the air around her shimmering like a mirage. Then, in an instant, the vision shattered. Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself sprawled on the cold stone of the coven’s ritual circle, the rosary biting into her clenched fist. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her chest heaving as the truth sank in: Mike wasn’t just a ghost from her past—he was a harbinger of doom, and she’d unwittingly armed him with the means to destroy her.