With the bottleneck pointed away from my body, I smashed into the doorframe at full throttle on my way out. Glass shattered. I swung around the outside of the house into a squat and adjusted the part of the bottle I still held, pointy broken side out. With working hands, this would be a lot less awkward. But as soon as movement flashed out the door, I leaped up, my momentum helping to keep the bottle wedged underneath my forearm, and rammed it into something soft and squishy.
I didn't wait around to see what it was.
I ran as fast as my legs and lungs could go through three feet of snow. Which wasn't fast at all. Past other houses. Past other witches who might have been able to help me, but I didn't want to put anyone else in danger. Besides, if they were smart, they wouldn't open their
