Evelyn crawled through smoke, the ledger clutched to her chest. Liam dragged her outside as the church collapsed.
"Why'd you shoot?" she choked.
"The quilts—they're alive," he rasped. "My mother… she talks to them."
Before Evelyn could respond, Ronan emerged from the flames unscathed, a quilt fragment smoldering in his hand. "Cleansing fire," he murmured. "How poetic.