Abigail
The knock on the door grew louder and harder, getting more ferocious with each passing second. Each thud rattled the wooden frame like someone was trying to break it down with pure rage.
Shit. Not now!
My heart slammed against my ribcage. Owen Smith's face drained of all color, he looked as so pale. He stumbled backward, eyes wide with terror, hands trembling while he pressed himself against the far wall of his small living room like that would make him disappear.
"It's them," he whispered, his voice cracking.
"They found me. You did this. You brought them here!"
His eyes shot daggers, accusing me and Annette.
"Okay, what now?" Annette whispered.
My pulse roared in my ears. The knock turned into violent pounding, like fists or boots slamming against the door. I flinched, wincing at the loud sounds.
Think, think, Abigail.
Owen wasn't helping with his screaming and ranting, for goodness sake!
"You stupid girls!" Owen hissed, his voice rising in panic.
