Your fate is now in my hands.

In the midst of Abigail's fading consciousness, reality blurred and fragmented. Her world narrowed to the struggle for breath and her body's desperate attempts to fend off the encroaching darkness.

In that harrowing moment, she heard a low thud. The grip around her neck loosened. The release was like a lifeline, and she gasped for air, her lungs greedily drinking in the precious oxygen that had eluded her.

Coughing and choking, Abigail's senses returned in a flurry of sensations. Her chest throbbed in protest, each breath stabbing like a knife. Her abdomen, already tender, ached even more from the intensity of the struggle. But amid the pain and confusion, she became aware of the presence of another person in the room.

In a daze, she saw Anastasia standing right behind Britney, holding a wooden flower vase in her hand. Gratitude surged within Abigail's chest, but the violence of her coughing fits prevented her from expressing it in words.