Come out, talk to me.
She tried to ignore the voice, and concentrated on drying the dishes. But she could see the well through the kitchen window.
Come on; you’re perfectly safe. You know I would never hurt you.
She knew she shouldn’t, but something inside her caused her to push open the back door and step out into the warm, sticky night, and walk through the dandelions to the well. From deep down, the voice spoke again, quietly.
Good… Now, I remember, last time we were talking about the children, and how it’d be better if they weren’t around…