Elle had put the telephone lying on top of the table, leaving it there to continue ringing.
Standing by the door, Elle clutched a porcelain vase tightly in her hands, ready to strike anyone who managed to enter. The moment she heard the sounds of the doorknob being twisted a while ago, she had immediately grabbed the only vase in the room, about the size of a one-liter wine bottle, threw out the fake flowers in it and rushed towards the door.
It seemed that her survival instincts had prompted her to move instead of just standing there frozen to the spot and behave as a helpless damsel that was paralyzed by her fear.
She stared hard at the doorknob. She had initially thought that she was not going to make it, but for some reason, the door did not fling open as she was expecting. It was almost as though the person behind the door had hesitated. Which was suspicious. Did someone interrupt them?
