I stare down at Victor at my feet and then, wild, uncomprehending, I look up into the room beyond him.
There, at the door –
An absolute nightmare come true. I blink, unbelieving – it can’t be possible –
But then the nightmare speaks, my own name on its lips.
“Evelyn,” Joyce says, smirking as he steps forward. “So gracious of you, to distract him while I took aim.”
I gasp, my mind still reeling, and then I fall to my knees, taking Victor’s face in my hands. He groans, his eyes pressed closed –
“Victor,” I murmur, looking all over him – I can’t see a wound anywhere –
But of course, his back was to me when Joyce shot –
Unthinking, I pull Victor forward and he cries out in protestation against the movement. I look over his back and yes – there –
Blood is seeping, thick and heavy
