Suddenly you hear it—a little knock at the door. Soft and slow, near the bottom. After a moment, there’s a tiny cough.
Mom lifted her arms and all the cutlery leapt from the drawers. A few stray forks impaled the zucchini she’d been slicing before the ruckus began.
“Horrifying, right?” the cultist grinned. “You’re about to be driven to the brink of madness, yeah?”
“Oh…yeah. Absolutely,” Mo nodded, trying not to cringe