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post contained an open golden locket, the front etched with a W. A flat ruby stone rested beside the locket.

As Eve continued to fight to free herself, a door across the room opened. One by one, the other parents filed into the room, each wearing the same black silk ceremonial robe. They paired up, taking positions behind the pillars with the six dolls bearing lockets.

“What’s happening?” Eve asked her mom, hoping her pleading would be answered.

“Stop fighting.” Eve’s mom held her daughter’s arm down and reached for the knife. “This will all be over soon.”

Eve twisted her head and looked at the dagger. She yanked her arm free from her mother’s grasp and grabbed the knife. As her mom tried to take the weapon away, Eve plunged the blade deep into her mother’s forearm.

“Eve!” Caretaker screamed. She lunged across the altar and pried the blood-stained knife from Eve’s hand. “You must do as you’re told!”

“It’s almost midnight,” Father John said. He took the dagger from Caretaker and handed it to Eve’s mother.

Eve’s mom stared at the dagger and the blood dripping from her forearm. She turned to Eve and said, “Such a bad little girl.”

Eve’s father used his body weight to pin Eve’s feet to the altar. Mother Martha and Caretaker locked Eve’s arms to her sides. Father John put his arm around Eve’s mother and pushed her closer to the altar.

“How can you do this?” Eve cried as she looked at everyone. “You can’t!” Eve looked at the six dolls across the room, their lockets glistening from the flames. She then looked at Caretaker. “I knew I couldn’t trust you. I knew it!”

The clock’s iron hand clicked to 11:55. Eve’s mother raised the black onyx dagger above her head. Blood dripped from the knife’s carbon steel blade, staining the stone altar. She looked down at her daughter and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Mom! No!” Eve screamed.

Forty Three

Sins

Dr. Cole shook his head, his hands now trembling as he continued to write as quickly as possible. For months he’d invested so little in Dawn’s infatuation with the diary and the stories of the children at camp. He paused and lowered his pen. Jeffrey, sitting behind his desk several feet away, appeared gaunt and drained.

“So, did they . . . .” Dr. Cole couldn’t bring himself to ask what he feared.

“They killed her.” Jeffrey grabbed his glass and stared into the dark amber liquid. “Her mother executed her. Stabbed Eve right in the heart. Her . . . her own daughter.”

“My God.” Dr. Cole lowered his head as he reflected on Jeffrey’s words. His armpits were damp with sweat. He wondered if it was from the heat in the apartment or the story he’d just heard. Dr. Cole reached for his whiskey and took a sip. “So, every child was executed?”

“Yes.” Jeffrey chugged back the rest of his drink. “The ceremony took place on each child’s thirteenth birthday. Father John, sorry, Andreas, made sure that each mother committed the murder. Typical cult leader, making others do his dirty work.”

“I can’t believe the parents went along, murdering their own children.”

“They were brainwashed. All of them.” Jeffrey drummed his fingers on his glass and shook his head. “Caretaker drugged those kids every night. Knocked them out.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t want them snooping around.”

“Those kids never had a chance, did they?”

“Andreas had the parents convinced they’d all be dead once the Mayan calendar ended at midnight. They truly believed they were doing what was best.” Jeffrey slowly made his way back to the bar cart and stared into his empty glass, seemingly lost in his thoughts. “The man crafted quite the process to execute the children.” He poured himself a bit more whiskey. “Each child had a custom locket based on their zodiac stone as part of the ceremony.”

“Zodiac stone?” Dr. Cole looked at his notes, disappointed by his poor penmanship. He placed his pen and notepad into the nearby folder and sighed, his brain completely overwhelmed. Dr. Cole decided he couldn’t spend any more time writing this information down. “I’m . . . I’m not following.”

“His wife was an astrology nut. After the execution, they would place the child’s zodiac stone and a drop of blood into the locket where it would remain sealed until the new world was born.” Jeffrey returned to his desk and stared out the window. “Andreas needed Eve to be killed and the ceremony completed before midnight.”

“Because that’s when he thought the end of days would begin?”

“Yes. Andreas believed the seven children would be reborn after the apocalypse. The lockets carried their souls. Each would rise again.”

“What? That’s so . . . .” Dr. Cole sighed as he stopped himself from saying the word crazy. “Unbelievable.”

“He said the doll would choose a new person and that the locket would transfer their soul when opened.” Jeffrey turned and faced the doctor. “If you believe in such things.”

“Of course not.” Dr. Cole, his throat suddenly dry and hoarse, asked, “Do . . . do you?”

Jeffrey paused and let his gaze wander across the room, almost as if he were searching for the answer. He looked at Dr. Cole and said, “No. But Andreas and his followers did. I can’t believe he got seven parents to follow him. And to murder their children.”

“It’s a good thing he only got seven.” Dr. Cole wiped the sweat from his brow. “Imagine if he’d–”

“He only wanted seven.”

“Only Seven.” Dr. Cole scratched his beard and asked, “Why?”

“When Andreas abandoned Saints of Christ to form Saints of Ascension, he also abandoned God.” Jeffrey clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “You see, Dr. Cole, his new church worshiped Satan.”

“This . . . this just keeps getting worse.” Dr. Cole found the entire story both disturbing and overwhelming. The warm temperature in the room only added to his discomfort. He wiped his sweaty palms against his pants.

“Andreas believed a new world would rise from the ashes,” Jeffrey said. “He wanted to be sure that world was filled with

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