Aila spat in Connor's face earning her a smack to her own. Stars danced around her vision with her head now turned to the side. She looked across the floor to see Finn lying in a pool of his own blood, spreading out slowly.
Her chest tightened with her hands fisting at her side, tears began to fall uncontrollably like a small river as she almost choked on her rising fury, her resentment growing inside like a tumour. Simultaneously, she was manhandled, pushed up the stairs and out of sight from the basement.
Aila ignored her surroundings. Her thoughts were clouded with Finn; images crossed her mind of the condition he was left in. Her emotions kept jumping from her boiling temper, seething beneath the surface, to wanting to hole up and cry. She could not do anything for Finn right now, and she felt hopeless.
