“It is a debt, my child, a debt that must be repaid.”

The recording spluttered and died, tape unspooling like ribbons from the deck.

Sarah felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise - her muscles tensing in anticipation. For a moment she hardly dared to breathe.

It was so quiet. The air split in two in the small space in which she stood, staring at the broken deck-player.

And the bony hand that now lay across it.