The Binding The peace in the old Victorian house lasted for three blissful days. The air was warm, the sunlight held no shadows, and Ben’s laughter finally echoed without a hollow undertone. But Maya couldn’t shake the feeling it was a ceasefire, not a surrender. Eleanor’s story of betrayal festered in her mind, a poison she felt compelled to purge completely. “She’s gone, Maya,” Ben said, hugging her. “We’re safe.” “She’s not gone,” Maya corrected softly, her empath’s senses tingling. “She’s… quiet. I need to make it right. A proper goodbye.” Against Ben’s vehement protests, she decided to perform a ritual of release. That