Elena stepped forward. Her hands shook, but her eyes were steady. “Sometimes pain comes from something attached that doesn’t belong. Not physical. Something carried. Envy. A burden placed there.”
Daniel wanted to laugh. But desperation silenced him.
He leaned down. “Mom… is it okay?”
Margaret nodded weakly.
Elena asked everyone to leave, but Daniel stayed.
She stood at the head of the bed, raised her hands as if sensing the air, and closed her eyes. The room grew unnaturally still.
“There’s something heavy,” she murmured. “Here. Left temple.”
Daniel’s skin prickled.
Elena’s fingers moved through the air, then clenched suddenly.
Margaret gasped—not in pain, but as if something had been pulled free.
In Elena’s hand was a tiny black mass, no bigger than a pea, unnaturally dark.
Daniel couldn’t breathe.
“It’s gone,” Elena said weakly. “Whatever was feeding on her is out.”
Margaret inhaled deeply. Her face softened.
“Danny… I can breathe,” she whispered.
Daniel broke down, hugging her fiercely.
“You saved her,” he said to Elena.
“I want nothing,” Elena replied. “Just don’t leave her alone. And be careful who you let close.”
That warning stayed with him.