They were sitting down on the sofas.
Silence reigned in the room.
On the floor, beside the door that led to the passageway was Tyler. He was asleep.
Lucille, alone on the smallest couch, still couldn't get out of her head how simple the woman had made it look.
Immediately she had given her consent, the woman had squatted to Tyler's level, and for some reason which she knew had been part of the woman's doing, her stepfather hadn't been able to move or talk, not even when the woman had placed her palms at each side of his head, her fingers(the index especially) deep-seated on it.
She had watched her mutter some intangible words for five minutes at most, before standing up.
Tyler had fallen by the side, and had been asleep ever since.
The woman had also assured them he would wake up, not knowing who he was.
She would have had a hard time believing it, but for the gun incident. The woman wasn't normal. She thought. A witch perhaps.