“I thought she was dead,” he confessed in a voice so low it was barely audible. “All the blood? On the floor? On the walls? On my clothes? Coming out of her mouth? Those gargling sounds she was making because she couldn’t breathe? Because she was fucking dying! And then the silence? The sound of nothing at all?” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and hissed, “I can’t get the image out of my head—and believe me, I’ve tried.”
