C39 The Breaking Point
Dianne cradled Sarah in her arms, her living room transformed into a scene of desperate urgency. Blood oozed from Sarah’s wounds, pooling on the floor and staining Dianne’s hands. The metallic tang of it filled the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life.
“Hang on, Sarah,” Dianne whispered, her voice trembling. She pressed her hand against a particularly deep gash on Sarah’s side
