The air hung thick and heavy, saturated with the residue of magic. The salt circle, now broken in several places, lay scattered across the attic floor like spilled snowflakes. The antique dolls, once leering with malevolent energy, were now inert, their porcelain faces staring blankly into the shadowed corners. Ethan, knees weak and heart hammering against his ribs, leaned heavily against a dusty trunk, gasping for breath.