He was on top of her then. A muscled arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the floor. Dark spots blurred her vision as she lashed out, trying to smash the back of her head into his face. She clawed at the arm banded around her. Her fingers slipped as he whipped her around in the air.

One minute she was on her feet, the next she hit the ground. Hard. A harsh sound escaped her. She knew it came from her because the noise vibrated through her.

Dazed and dizzy, she lay on her back and looked up at her attacker. Trent stood over her with the knife. Blood dripped off the end.

“Stabbed?” She’d sliced him? That had to be it.

She tried to kick out, but her body refused to move. A strange numbness moved through her. Her hands felt wet. Lifting her head grew impossible as the sound of labored breathing registered in her brain.

Her eyes closed, and she forced them open again. She was so tired. The exhaustion crept up on her and stole all her strength. She strained to get up but couldn’t move. As the minutes ticked by, the last of her energy drained away. Her right hand slipped off her stomach and fell to the floor beside her.

The wetness. Blood. A slick fiery red covered her closed fist. She couldn’t remember making a fist but couldn’t stop. Her hand remained clenched even as she fought to open it. More red. Running out from under her, around her.

She heard a click and what sounded like a sharp intake of breath. Gabby was here. Finally. She would fix this. Jessa couldn’t form the words, but Gabby knew the truth. She knew everything.

Rest now. Peace. Quiet. Jessa savored the soothing comfort of both. This time she let her eyes close, but they opened again at the sound of Retta’s trembling voice.

“No! What did you do?”

Chapter Seventy-Three
Jessa

There was an odd sucking noise that made it hard for Jessa to hear the words. Retta entered the room, all animated and yelling. More emotion than Jessa had ever seen from her. Retta shoved the man . . . What was it again? Trent? Yeah, that was it.

Retta’s pantsuit today was a Wedgwood blue. Jessa had no idea why that mattered or stuck in her mind. Her eyes were so heavy. The blue popped through the fuzziness.

“You had no right,” Retta yelled.

He probably shouldn’t be here. That made sense. Jessa struggled to remember why she was here . . . Where was she? She focused on the leather chair and ottoman in the far corner of the room, but they didn’t look familiar. Faith had once joked that she couldn’t afford real leather, so not hers. Maybe Tim . . . Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The wheezing grew louder. Like a gurgling. The sound bounced around Jessa’s head.

Where is that coming from?