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Shriek (in secunda parte)

arcebant aegram

“Dolores?
Sister Dolores?!
Sister Bettina rapped the cedar door with soft cork handle of her cane. “Awaken . . . Sister, get up!”

The plump young novitiate awakened in a start. Exhausted from the fitful labor of elusive slumber, she fumbled for her leather clogs in the pre-dawn chill. One terror alone was worse than…