She looked down at the sliver of silver resting on the carpet, then picked it up and ran a caressing thumb along its flat side. ‘I have known your touch,’ she whispered to it, the scars on her wrists smouldering with the memory of fire, ‘no longer have I reason to fear you. You can do no more to me than I have already endured… not without taking the pain away altogether.’ She smiled briefly but flinched at something that flashed in the corner of her eye. She turned her head as the blade fell to the floor and she saw the fire blazing in the opposite corner of the room.
A burning chill of fear clawed its way down her spine as she stood up. Tears pricked her eyes and followed the contours of her cheeks and she took the first step. Her bare foot sank slightly into the soft, fur rug…