And somehow I miss. At the last moment, Beth must’ve heard me move because the vase hits her on the shoulder instead.

She cries out in pain, clutching her shoulder. “You fucking bitch!”

I gasp and try to lift the vase again, but it’s too late. She grabs for the vase, and it falls down, breaking into a dozen pieces between us.

I jump back, my right hand frantically scrambling for the knife. Shit, shit, shit. I manage to grab the handle and pull it out, but before I can do anything, she grabs my arm, moving as quickly as a snake. Her grip is like a steel band around my right wrist.

Her face is flushed and her eyes are glittering as she twists my arm painfully backward. “Drop the knife, Nora,” she orders harshly, her voice filled with fury.

Panicking, I try to hit her in the face with my other hand, but she catches that arm too. She clearly knows how to fight—and she’s also obviously stronger than me.

My right arm is screaming in pain, but I try to kick at her. I can’t lose this fight. This is my best chance at escape.

My feet make contact with her legs, but I’m not wearing shoes and I do more damage to my toes than to her shins.

“Drop the knife, Nora, or I will break your arm,” she hisses, and I know that she’s telling the truth. My shoulder feels like it’s about to pop out of its socket, and my vision darkens as waves of pain radiate down my arm.

I hold out for one more second, and then my fingers release the knife. It falls to the floor with a loud thunk.

Beth immediately lets me go and bends down to pick it up.

I back away, breathing harshly, tears of pain and frustration burning in my eyes. I don’t know what she’s going to do to me now, and I don’t want to find out.

So I run.

I am fast on my feet and in good shape. I can hear Beth chasing after me, calling my name, but I doubt she’s ever done track before.

I run out of the house and down to the beach. Rocks, twigs, and gravel dig into my feet, but I barely feel them.

I don’t know where I’m running, but I can’t let Beth catch me. I can’t be locked up in the room or worse.

“Nora!”

Fuck, she’s a good runner too. I put on a burst of speed, ignoring the pain in my feet.

“Nora, don’t be an idiot! There’s nowhere to go!”

I know that’s true, but I can’t be a passive victim any longer. I can’t sit meekly in that house, eat Beth’s food, and wait for Julian to return.

I can’t allow him to hurt me again and then make my body crave him.

My leg muscles are screaming, and my lungs are straining for air. I divorce myself from the discomfort, pretend I’m in a race with the finish line only a hundred yards away.