He widens his stride and reaches for me. I look to the crowd for help, but everyone just stumbles in a blind panic.
“Help—!”
Thick fingers clamp around my throat. He squeezes hard enough to hold me, but not tight enough to hurt me. I stare at him, utterly helpless as he regards me with great amusement.
He slides a knife free from his belt with his other hand.
I jolt backward, getting nowhere. “No—!”
“Shh,” he growls.
My spit turns to acid in my mouth as the cold touch of the blade rests against my left cheek. He presses down, carving a deep line toward the edge of my mouth, and I cringe in pain.
Finally, he drops me and jumps out the window. I quiver with adrenaline, still trapped in my own body. I touch my face, feeling broken skin and painting my fingers red with blood.
“Roxie!” My father falls to his knees by my side. “Are you okay?!”
I stare at Senator Lamb’s lifeless body, unable to answer the question.
* * *
