Steven dropped to his knees next to the paramedic. "Jenna."

Her eyes opened and in them he saw shock and tears and guilt. "I'm so sorry, Steven. I should have listened to you."

Steven noticed the smears of blood on her worn Duke T-shirt. "Any other wounds?" he asked the paramedic.

"Only her throat. The blood on her shirt appears to be her own."

"We found bloody handprints on the carpet where she crawled from the bedroom," said Uniform Two.

Steven's gut seethed as he pictured her scared and hurt and crawling through her own house like a wounded animal. For that alone, whoever did this to her would pay . . .

Contains mature themes.

Karen Rose