At home later, she prepared the Waters for the ritual, gathering the predetermined items: the basin, the drinking vessel, the cloth, the oils. Then she felt the jinin move again. It hurt; the pain felt as though it scraped against the inside of her uterus, a slow, dull scratching that pulled along the internal material of her womb.
She looked on as, again, ethereal black tendrils reached out from within her, out into the room. She thought since the house vacant except for Jake in his bedroom on the other side of the home, this time the fetus could do no harm. But no. The transparent arms continued to stretch out, beyond the bathroom, far beyond her line of sight. She felt the strain of the distance, as though lifting a weight in her outstretched hand.
From Jake’s room, she heard him scre
