Hang in there. [ She gives him a tight smile. ] Something's working. Keep that safe space in your head.

[ Of that, she has no doubt. Something's happening. Peter looks like shit. The candles are still burning, but the room feels darker, as if the sun went down outside. Was the sun already down when she came in?

She repeats the invocation as she picks up the burnt rosemary twig and uses it to draw a smaller version of the hexagram in the salt, speaking a little faster now, trying to push that rock uphill. A third time, drawing a circle to enclose the hexagram. It feels like it should be taking hold, but there's something precarious about it, like she's trying to tie a door closed with spiderweb.

Maybe the next part will help. When she looks across the diagram at Peter, there's sweat on her hairline and an effortful set in her jaw. ]

Okay. First part. Good, we're doing good. [ She reaches her hands out across the diagram to him. ] Take my hands, hold 'em as tight as you like.

This is your home, kid. This place is your place, this body is your body, and we're gonna make sure nobody can fuck with that. Okay?