Chapter 132 Beneath The Skin
The stillness within the hospital chapel was oppressive.
Seraphine Wolfe was at the center of the tiny, darkened sanctuary, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum of war. She could smell the faint, lingering odor of blood in the walls—old, distant, but impossible for her heightened senses to disregard. Her hands curled around the top of a wooden pew as she attempted to steady her breathing.
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