Megan Inky -

He left, and Megan was alone with her raven drawing. The raven’s head turned, its beak opening in a silent caw. It knew she was scared.

Lucas’s smile was thin. “Because I need you to draw something for me. Something specific.” He flipped to the last page. The drawing there was rough, almost childish, but unmistakable: a figure, human-shaped but wrong—too many joints, fingers like roots, a face that was mostly empty space with three too-large eyes. Underneath, in shaky letters: The Hollow. megan inky

She didn’t even mind the stain.

She held up her pen. The nib glinted.