A Fluke

Amelia tossed Michael's phone aside, the rage in her eyes evident as she turned towards Michael who was still bound up.

"Why is she still calling? Why is she still alive? What on earth is Mark doing?!" Amelia hissed as she paced up and down the warehouse. It had been more than four hours since Mark left, and she was yet to receive any update from him. Killing one girl can't be that difficult now, could it? So why was he taking so long?!

"Nobody does anything right nowadays!" She lamented underneath her breath as her hands balled into a fist.

Michael kept his eyes on her, he could tell she was frustrated and he didn't know if he should take delight in her pain or be afraid that she might implode and do something to herself or him. He had spent the last hour trying to talk her out of this nonsense, but Amelia wasn't listening. Her hatred for Olivia had grown far beyond what he could comprehend, and it was clear that she had her mind made up.