Then, a gust of wind came from nowhere and blew out the fire in the cauldron. The candles on the altar and around the circle flickered, each bent all the way to the side, but they remained lit. Jim waited, holding his breath.

And the front door slammed open. He closed his eyes at the sound of John’s voice at the door.

“Honey, I’m home.”

The ritual had worked, although not quite in the way it was supposed to. John was loose, able to act. Would Denise still be able to play her part?

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