SHE WAS sound asleep, somewhere beyond the point where a phone call or human voice could penetrate, deep in a slumber only the incessant ringing of the doorbell could shatter.
She forced an eye open. Sat up. Looked around for a robe. Yanked it on over the nightie she had slept in.
She moved slowly down the stairs, coming to the main nave of the loft. The place was a mess and it looked like Daniel still hadn’t come home. Her head felt like it was too small for her brain.
The bell jingled again and she rounded the banister to the staircase. She moved past the four equestrian portraits and almost slipped on the polished wood. She hitched the robe a little tighter. Opened the door.
She saw a smile. She smiled back. Something came at her. She never registered the blade whistling through her throat but she did feel the giddy high.
She saw her own blood spurt across the doorway.
Then she saw nothing at all.