Before Elma could catch her breath, a pair of strong hands took her hand and violently shoved her back into the restaurant.
Too shaken for words, Elma felt her knees buckle themselves as she dropped to the floor. She could not believe half of what that was. Her head was a mess. She had never felt so close to death as she did right now.
Was she losing her mind, or was this really happening?
"Elma?" an unsure baritone voice sounded near her.
"No, no, no, no. Don't come any closer!" Her head bobbed about. She would not look at him.
"Elma, listen to me," the voice spoke again.
This time she did not move a muscle. Her body was hard as a rock. Her eyes were glued shut. If she was going to die right there, it was better not to see it coming.
"Listen up, Miss Gray," Riccardo yelled, impatiently. "Whatever you do, don't come out or lookout, okay?"
"Why?" she answered back, scarcely finding her tongue.
"I need to step out for just a minute."
