"Stop shouting," the figure growled. In a flash, he was upon her. Before she could even react, a hand clamped around her throat, squeezing with a force that stole the air from her lungs.
Panic choked her, her eyes bulging wide with a mixture of terror and helplessness. Every desperate gasp for breath became a dry, rattling cough. The room began to spin, the dim light blurring at the edges as darkness threatened to consume her vision.
Esme thought she would die. Her lungs hurt. Every cell of her body craved oxygen, but the man didn't loosen his grip a bit.
Tears escaped her eyes as she thought of her unborn child. She apologized silently to her child for not being able to protect it. Silas's face crossed in front of her vision, twisting her heart in agony. She was dying here, alone. The air grew thin, a searing fire scorching her lungs.
