The Well of Silence (The Winchelsea Veil, #12)

The storm rolled in from the sea without warning.
Wind clawed at the priory walls, rattling shutters, howling through the cloisters like a voice desperate to be heard. Brother Aldwin Merrow pressed a hand to the cellar door, feeling the cold seep through the wood. The lantern in his other hand flickered, its flame shrinking as though afraid.
"Agnes," he whispered, "stay close."
The child clung to his robe, silent and trembling. She had not spoken since the night she saw what she was never mean...