Her pulse roared in her ears. She backed away, her foot slipping in a pool of blood. The room spun—her dog, the message, the locked door. None of it mattered now.
He was outside.
A floorboard groaned beyond the bathroom. He was moving. Slow. Deliberate. He wanted her to hear him coming.
She scanned the room. No weapon. No escape. Just the window—too small. The vent—too high.
The knob jiggled again. Then—
BANG.
A heavy thud against the door. The wood splintered slightly.
She sucked in a sharp breath, clamping a hand over her mouth. Her mind screamed for a way out.
Then she saw it.
The shower rod. Loose at one end.
Another slam. The doorframe cracked.
No time to think. She lunged, yanking the rod free just as the door burst open.
A figure loomed in the doorway, shadowed, faceless—but the knife gleamed bright.
She didn’t hesitate. With everything she had, she swung.
To be continued...
