For a brief moment, Rachel thought that had done it; she thought she saw the knife coming away and a sort of relaxed posture come over Claire. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone. She pressed even harder against Cassie and screamed: But my eggs…my eggs that I had donated…why should some other woman be able to use what was rightfully mine?

Rachel eyed Jack through the window, hoping he hadnt taken Claires screaming as a cue to come in. He still stood there, looking as if he were spring loaded and ready to jump.

Mrs. Allen, drop the knife. If you have any hope for a way out of this, you need to drop the…the knife…

Without any warming at all, Rachel felt herself growing light-headed. A thin streak of white darted across her vision, followed by a larger one.

No…no…not now…

She did her best to keep her feet but swayed forward a bit. She felt herself falling forward, her mind going faint and hazy. And apparently Claire Allen saw this as an aggressive move.

The good news was that she removed the knife from Cassies throat as she redirected her attention at Rachel. Claire lunged hard to the right and slashed out quickly. She missed Rachel by about a foot, but kept coming even in her failed attack. As Rachel stumbled forward, still reeling and not quite there, Claire slammed into her.

Rachel was thrown back into one of the chairs around the kitchen table. As her legs tangled with it, she caught a glimpse of where the gray water was coming from. There was a painting-in-progress on the table, knocked loose from its canvas. Somewhere during the killers attack the water used to clean the brushes had been knocked over and rolled to the floor where it shattered. Another glass jar with brushes had rolled over on the table, making the windchime sound Rachel had heard. It all looked vague and abstract as her vision blurred.

This quick summary of the scene was caught in a split second as she fell to the floor. And when she hit the floor, she realized it might have been the best thing that could have happened. The impact knocked some of the wind out of her and seemed to bring her mind back around to the pressure of the moment. There was one final hazy streak of white and then her vision started to clear up. The veil of blackness was slowly pushed away.

The first thing her now-clear vision saw was Claire Allen swiping the knife down towards her. Rachel brought her forearm up in a desperate defensive move and slammed it into Claires chin. Claire was rocked and as she tottered backwards, Rachel caught the frantic motion of Jack coming in through the back door.