Marissa stepped cautiously into the hospital room, the stench of inevitable death hanging heavy. She knew who had summoned her – distant family from out-of-state – but still had no idea why.
She settled alongside the lone bed. The aged, withered face staring back at her was unrecognizable. Her great aunt, maybe? She wasn’t sure.
A frail, emaciated arm appeared unexpectedly from underneath the pile of blankets. Inside the liver spotted hand, a tarnished silver locket.
She picked up the locket, pressed it into her own palm. Its energy felt dark and unsettling.
And suddenly Marissa knew this visit was a mistake.
The Weekday One Hundred 