prologue; emily's baby.

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"I was beginning to think you might never visit her."

Michael took tentative steps towards the cradle; the mobile that hung from the ceiling was playing a soft lullaby, lulling the infant into slumber.

"Maybe I'm scared."

Ms Mead quirked an eyebrow.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn sir, but why would the son of satan be afraid of a little girl?"

He reached out to touch the baby's cheek, but pulled away at the last moment. He took one long, last look at her before shaking his head sadly, and pulling the thin curtain around the bassinet, obscuring the baby from his view.

"Perhaps I'm afraid of what I'll do to her."

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