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NIGHT OF TERROR

Cathy Atwood jerked upright in bed, heart hammering, eyes pinned wide open in the inky blackness. That blood-curdling fear again - the fear that Brad was there in the room with her. But Brad was dead! She herself had seen the car he was driving soar off the cliff ablaze with flames.

Yet there out of the mausoleum-like silence she heard a faint creak, a footstep, and with terror clutching her in its vulture grip she focused her eyes on a figure looming in the doorway!

He had come back...

Even as a child Cathy Atwood had been able to predict death. But no one listened. Time and again she watched helplessly as tragedy struck, her heart swelling with sorrow and guilt. Some thought the child was cursed by the devil, perhaps even a murderer.

No it was happening again. Right after one of their frequent quarrels, Cathy's husband, Brad, died. His family blamed Cathy when in fact she had sensed death and tried to warn him. Now, held prisoner in their hostile household, Cathy could not shake the chilling sense that Brad had returned to take revenge.

Again no one would listen. Even Paul Sanderson, who adored Cathy, thought she was imagining things. Somehow she had to escape from that house. But could she ever escape from the anguish in her heart?
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