~The nightmares came again last night. The dead won't leave me alone.~
Jocelynn knew all too well the terrors that followed violent deaths. Some nights, she still woke with tears in her eyes and an arm reaching for Eleanor's hand. Others, it was Percivus, bleeding from hundreds of shallow cuts, who taunted her from beyond the grave. Her hands were still rough from waking day after day to wash away the feeling of blood on her hands.
The feeling wouldn't fade for hours, no matter how much she scrubbed. For Ashlynn, the haunting had been similar, but she carried so much more than her sister did.
~I've killed people, Jocey,~ the letter said.
~I haven't killed wantonly. I've not turned into a monster, no matter what the Church says about witches. I hope you can believe that. But some people… It's better for everyone that some people no longer exist in this world.~
