It stole the air from my lungs and dropped me to the floor like I had been pulled out from under myself.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
And then I felt it.
Warmth.
Spreading.
Blood.
Daniel shouted my name, his voice breaking as he dropped beside me, his hands shaking as he tried to hold me, to steady me, to keep me there.
I could barely speak.
I just kept whispering the same thing, over and over, like if I said it enough times it would become real.
“Please… stay… please stay…”
But the most horrifying part wasn’t the pain.
It was what happened next.
Margaret didn’t panic.
She didn’t apologize.
She didn’t even look afraid.
“She made me do it,” she said.
Just like that.
Like it was normal.
Like it made sense.
Daniel looked at her.
Then at me.
Then at the blood.
And I saw it happen—the moment something inside him broke.
Or maybe… the moment something inside him finally woke up.
He stood slowly, pulled out his phone, and looked straight at her.
“No more lies,” he said, his voice steady in a way I had never heard before. “I’m calling the police.”
Everything after that blurred together.
Sirens.
Voices.
Hands lifting me onto a stretcher.
The ceiling of the ambulance flashing above me in cold, sterile lights.