Chapter 8: The Mark
Ava's unease grew as she watched her mother gaze at the baby with an intensity that made her skin crawl. Catherine's eyes seemed to be drinking in every detail, every feature of the child's face.
As Ava reached for her daughter, Catherine's grip tightened. "Let me hold her a bit longer," she said, her voice low and husky.
Ava's instincts screamed warning, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong. That was when she saw it a small, intricate mark on the baby's palm. It looked like a symbol, etched into the tiny hand.
Catherine's eyes met Ava's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Ava felt a chill run down her spine.
"What is that?" Ava asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Catherine's expression turned cold, calculating. "It's... a family trait," she said, her voice dripping with an unsettling reverence.
Ava's mind reeled. What kind of family trait? And why did it seem so sinister?