Viola's voice wasn't loud. It wasn't even threatening.
Somehow, that made it worse.
Charlotte's chest tightened. Viola wasn't snapping back or screaming in rage, she was far too calm. She looked like someone who already knew the outcome of a game that had only just begun.
Charlotte felt her stomach twist violently.
Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run.
Run.
The thought slammed into her mind with terrifying force.
Run now. Don't look back.
Her pulse thundered in her ears so loudly it almost drowned out everything else. Cold sweat slid down her back as dread coiled tightly around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs.
But her feet would not move.
It was as if invisible hands had wrapped themselves around her ankles, pinning her to the earth.
Her fingers trembled slightly around her weapon as her breathing turned uneven.
No.
No, this made no sense.
Her mind desperately clawed for logic, for anything that could explain the horrifying scene before her.
