“Of course. I think she is the last person who should have it, especially now.”
Tessa felt his shoulders heave against her. “Because you think she is senile?”
“Um... Yeah. Mostly. She might leave it laying around on the dining room table or something.”
* * * *
They tied her to the table with a hank of washing line from the kitchen drawer. Ellie had stopped struggling some time ago, after they had beaten her, and now lay, semi-conscious, in a pool of her own blood. The black clad women were busy demolishing the kitchen with the same methodical efficiency with which they had wrecked the living room.
After a time, the leader spoke. “Time is growing short. We must rouse her.”
A decorative cut glass lamp stood on the counter, ready for use in a power outage. She removed the shade and drop
