Chapter 89: Light

"This is the room."

When York assured her of her daughter's safety, Peggy quickly led them to a room. Taking a deep breath to suppress her emotions, she looked at the group following her and said, "Only the father can go in. I don't want too many people disturbing my poor daughter."

Hearing this, York looked back at Ed and the others, "You start setting up the scene first."

Ed understood, "Okay, Father York." After saying that, he went downstairs with Morris and Drew.

Soon, the sounds of their busy work echoed from below.

"Drew, bring all the equipment over, be careful not to disturb Lorraine; she hasn't slept this peacefully in a long time."

"I understand, Mr. Ed."

York turned his attention back to Peggy.

Peggy, with a tight-lipped expression, quietly turned the doorknob and opened the door.

As the door swung open, the first thing that struck York was a very uncomfortable scene.

The dim, small room, which could barely contain anything, had walls filled with useless crosses of every kind.

Looking deeper into the room, there was only a bed and a twelve-year-old girl sitting on it, facing away from the door towards the sealed window. Despite the noise from the door, she didn't turn around, just sat there alone.

The crosses surrounding her seemed like a cage, trapping her like a free bird now confined.

"Janet," Peggy said with pity, "the priest from the church has come to see you."

However, Peggy didn't get a response. Janet just sat on the bed, her shoulders barely moving, not even turning around, her frail silhouette devoid of any vitality.

Peggy turned to York, instinctively explaining, "Father York, she might be a bit tired..."

"It's okay." York stepped forward into the room, closing the door behind him, facing Peggy.

"Mrs. Peggy, could I have a moment alone with Janet?"

Peggy hesitated, looking at her lonely daughter sitting on the bed edge.

"This..."

"I'll just talk for a bit," York reassured her, "I think, maybe I can help Janet return to her previous days."

"Okay, alright." Peggy glanced once more into the room before reluctantly letting go.

"Thank you." York smiled gently and closed the door.

With a click, the room became even darker, and the darkness felt even more oppressive, harboring great terror.

York turned around, indifferent to the crosses on the walls, and slowly walked towards Janet.

"Child, may I sit next to you?"

York stopped, looking at the protagonist Janet.

A girl who should have been lively and lovely was now sullen and expressionless, resembling the depressed patients he had seen in hospitals in his previous life.

Janet didn't respond or even look at him, just staring out the window.

"Alright, since you're not speaking, I'll take that as a yes."

York sat down beside Janet, facing the window that was sealed with wooden frames. Sunlight peeked through the cracks, small but piercing if looked at closely.

"Child, you know, I'm aware of your uniqueness. You were born with the ability to see things others can't."

York didn't hear a response from Janet but continued anyway, focusing on the sunlight through the crack.

"I can see them too, so I understand how you feel, how helpless it is when others don't believe you. Child, we're the same, and I empathize deeply."

Reminiscing, York smiled nostalgically, continuing in a gentle tone.

"Once, a person glowing with light helped me. So, do you need help? Child, you might try to trust me, believe that I can indeed help you..."

After finishing, York stayed silent, simply sitting there, waiting for Janet to speak.

The room was quiet until a tiny, cautious question arose.

"Father, can you really see them?"

York looked down at Janet next to him, her eyes showing a hint of hope, and smiled gently.

"Of course, it's precisely because I can see them that I came here to help you."

Janet looked up, her youthful face finally showing emotion, but then she quickly looked down again, as if taking a hesitant step forward only to quickly retreat.

York's face showed sympathy. He observed the crosses on the walls and the evil mist roaming around, which contributed to the oppressive atmosphere and indicated that the room was frequented by some malevolent entity.

"Child, if you don't want to talk, may I ask you some questions?"

Janet remained silent, but York asked anyway.

"Do you think these crosses are useful?"

"No," Janet's voice trembled as she kept her head down.

"It still comes every night."

"It?" York raised an eyebrow, noting the significance of her wording, suspecting it wasn't just referring to Bill Wilkins.

"Who does it refer to?"

However, Janet fell silent again.

Despite this, York remained patient, understanding that the twelve-year-old Janet, with her mediumistic abilities, was experiencing profound fear.

The only thing he could do was to make her believe in his abilities, that he could genuinely offer help.

"Child, do you believe in light?" York looked at Janet, who remained silent, staring at the floor.

"Whether you believe or not, why don't you look up? Believe me, you'll see something extraordinary, something unbelievable."

York's tone was as if coaxing a real child, and thankfully, it worked.

Janet seemed to gather enough courage to cautiously look up, then froze, her eyes reflecting blossoms.

Seeing Janet's stunned, wide-eyed expression, and after the spell he had just silently recited settled, York smiled and looked at his open palm,

"Child, I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Through the Exorcio, a magical converter, a blossom made of pure magic appeared in his palm, shining with its perilous light.

[1 point of magic used]

York smiled, squinting his eyes; he had guessed right. Janet's talent was indeed extraordinary, strong enough to see the magic transformed from his spell.

"So, do you want to see something even more unbelievable?"

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