— Tie her. Not harshly. Gently, but firmly enough so she can’t move.
My mother jumped to her feet.
— Tie my daughter?! Why?!
Colette looked her straight in the eyes.
— If we don’t tie her now, she could hurt herself or worse… hurt someone else. We’re not restraining your daughter, Mama — we’re restraining what is in her.
The boys approached. One held a rope braided with dry leaves, the other a white cloth they wrapped around my arms and legs.
I didn’t resist.
I even smiled — a strange smile.
My mother began to cry softly while Mama Jeanne held her hand.
— We will save her. Trust me.
Colette went inside the house, lit a large black candle, and placed a calabash full of leaves in a corner. Then she came back to me, leaned down, and whispered:
— It’s you or them, Ingride. Tonight, we choose.
The night was only beginning.
