Chapter 3

When I woke up, I was in our bed.

The sheets were fresh, but I was still wearing a blood-stained dress, the fabric stiff and crusted where the gore had dried.

Andrew was too paralyzed by fear to clean me up or call an ambulance.

He was too afraid.

He was huddled in the corner of the room, hugging his knees, shaking like a terrified animal.

A thick scent of iron hung in the air, mingled with the stench of urine. It seemed he had literally pissed himself in terror.

I moved my fingers, letting out a pained moan.

His…