HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION
He looked at the horizon, where a single, black helicopter was rising from the other side of the ridge, its lights off, silent as a predatory bird.
"They’re leaving," Dante said.
"Wait," Ivy said, grabbing his arm. "Look at the fountain."
The mountain of silver hearts was gone. In its place, the grey-habited woman sat on the stone edge, holding a single, real, human heart in her hands. It was still beating, connected to nothing, pulsing with a slow, rhythmic thud.
She looked up at them, her eyes now the same shimmering silver as the twin in the photo.
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