The elder two sisters were hauling the TV out of the living room when they heard the crack of the gunshot downstairs. Lachesis paled. "They're here."
The Crone shot a glance over her shoulder toward the Loom, her expression grim. "Right on schedule."
Clotho flinched as the gun went off. Her back hit the counter as she took an involuntary step backwards, and she drew in a breath that was almost a gasp. Calm, she told herself. Fear would only serve to encourage them. And so, trying her hardest to ignore the frantic pounding of her heart sending flutters through her chest, she summoned all the calm and authority she could muster as she forced herself to greet the trio. "Nephews."
Her voice was cool, but the tension in her posture was hard to miss. Unconsciously, her fingers curled around the edge of the counter-top behind her. "You have no quarrel with Fate. Stop this foolishness now."