What? Max’s eyes flung toward her. She’d been quiet the whole drive over, but he never considered it was because she was sitting on information that had to do with his mother. “What shrine in Chicago?”

“So…” Vera squirmed in her seat. “Remember the hurricane?”

“Obviously.” He scoffed.

“Well…” She kept wiggling, the leather squeaking below her. “Something happened at our house that day.”

Max’s mind stilled as Vera relayed the story about the cult in Chicago, the human sacrifices, and the chalice of blood. That chalice was in her basement, a souvenir from devil worshippers. And it shattered.

“So let me get this straight.” Max held up his hands, fingers stretched wide. “A hurricane hit your house and unleashed a demon? That’s what’s inside my mother, right now? But a few days ago, you said those objects were completely safe.”

He slept in that house, so did his sister. They had an entire conversation about that basement, and at no point did anyone mention broken artifacts.

“When we talked, I didn’t know. I hadn’t spoken to my mom yet. She hadn’t told me about the chalice. A lot has changed in a few hours….”

“Would have been nice if you told me! So are these objects safe or not? My sister is there. What happens the next time a storm, a fire, or some clumsy cleaning person strikes? Will dozens more evil spirits be let loose on the world?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t you kinda have to know? Otherwise, get rid of that stuff.”

“The objects are safe,” Father Chuck defended. “We bless them every week.”

“Clearly, it’s not working!” Max popped up, feeling like the room was shrinking.

It was one thing to think his mother had stumbled upon this demon on her own or was afflicted completely at random, but it was another to learn that it was brought here.

He cracked his knuckles, pacing on the olive-green carpet. “My mother is possessed by a demon that your parents encountered years ago and carpooled with to Roaring Creek. This means none of this would be happening if it weren’t for—”

“Hey, if her parents didn’t do the work they do, that demon never would’ve been bottled up, not for one minute. We all know the truth of that.” Father Chuck stood, cutting off Max’s pacing. “The evil would’ve gone hopping from those boys in Chicago to another and another, and folks would’ve kept dying, dozens, maybe hundreds. So I don’t wanna hear you tossing blame. My eyes have seen what the Martinezes have rid from this world.”

“How do you know that they’ve rid anything? Look at what’s happening! Maybe your spells don’t work.”

“They’re not spells, they’re prayers, and they work,” the priest insisted. “I’ve seen an evil spirit leave a body. I’ve felt it.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve felt my mother turn into whatever was in that chalice!” Max snapped, eyes shooting toward Vera. He knew this wasn’t her fault, logically, but he couldn’t ignore that the evil coursing through his mom, his family, originated in her home. He dropped his head. “You’re telling me everything my family’s going through is because a cup broke in your basement?”