Only the next of kin. In one grave, mind. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend. "In Canton. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile.
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