It seems a few nights in jail helped clear her mind.

The girls are quiet, confident of everyone’s attention. No one is afflicting them… yet.

You would never admit this aloud, but you’re a bit disappointed. Their outbursts are always, well, alluring in a scary sort of way.

You smile just a little as you imagine them shaking and snarling like wet cats.

Ann catches your eye for an instant. Is that a hint of a grin in reply? If so, it fades quickly.

Her eyes widen, and her whole body goes limp. Abigail and Mary begin screaming. Ann stays still a few more seconds, then leaps to her feet and starts “flying” around the room. She flaps her arms and lets out a sound that no one has ever heard before. It’s sort of a squawk and sort of a bark and sort of a scream.

“Who is it, Ann? Who is tormenting you?” Ann shrieks and flaps and runs. “Tell us, Ann. Tell us.”

The girl pauses, turns, and names her torturer.