Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Blood hit the concrete floor in slow, steady drops, each one creating a small dark circle on the gray surface.
Grace's eyes were squeezed shut, her body frozen in place. Her breath caught in her throat. She waited for the pain. For the sharp bite of metal piercing skin. For the impact that would end everything.
But it didn't come.
She opened her eyes slowly, her eyelids fluttering.
A figure stood in front of her, blocking her view of the hallway ahead.
Liam.
He was standing between her and the direction the knife had come from, his body angled slightly to the side. His right hand was raised in front of him, fingers wrapped around something.
The blade.
He'd caught it. The sharp edge gripped tight between his fingers, the tip just inches from Grace's face. Blood ran down his palm in a thin stream, winding around his wrist and dripping onto the floor.
Grace's breath came out in a rush. "Oh no, Liam!"
