"I'm armed," she said, raising her voice. "Stay away. I have a knife."
"No, you don't," the figure croaked.
Her knees shook beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor. She tried to get up, but her legs didn't seem to work. She scrambled and struggled, and the figure laughed in short, dry rasps.
"I'll call the police," she said.
"No, you won't," the figure croaked.
"I will," she insisted.
"They won't help," the figure said. "If the police were good for anything, I'd still have my hand."
She froze—there was something about the voice that sounded strangely familiar.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
"Guess," the figure said.
"I have no idea," she said, feeling a panicked sob shake in her chest. "I—I— swear."
"Oh, but you do know who I am, Madison," he said.
Her heart beat faster, and another sob shook her chest. How did the intruder know her name? What else did he know?
