"Marshall, make her stop," she demanded.

I decrescendoed my voice so I could hear him.

Limping up the center aisle was Dad, with what looked like Tessa's shotgun aimed at Allison's back. His red-rimmed gaze stuck on Mom near his feet. "No."

"Marshall!" she snapped, her lethal stare pinned to me. "Only I know where the antidote is for your amulet. Yours and Hendry's. Hendry, you stop her."

Hendry's arm hung at an odd angle as he dragged ...