Paula kicked away the aluminum cane. “Your daughter’s going to watch you die.”
Laura said nothing.
“Take this.” Paula tossed the spool of clothesline at Laura.
She caught it with one hand. Her eyes went to Andy. Then she looked back at Paula.
What?Andy wanted to scream. What am I supposed to do?
Laura held up the spool. “Is this supposed to make me feel sad?”
“It’s supposed to tie you up like a pig so I can gut you.”
Gut you?
Andy started pulling at the handcuffs. She pressed her chest into the edge of the table. The pain was almost unbearable, but she had to do something.
“Penny, stop this.” Laura slid toward the edge of the bed. “Nick wouldn’t want—”
“What the fuck do you know about what Nick wants?” Paula gripped the gun with both hands. She was shaking with fury. “You fucking cold bitch.”
“I was his lover for six years. I gave birth to his child.” Laura’s feet went flat to the ground. “Do you think he’d want his daughter to witness her mother’s brutal murder?”
“I should just shoot you,” Paula said. “Do you see my eye? Do you see what you did to me?”
“I’m actually quite proud of that.”
Paula swung the gun into Laura’s face.
Smack.
Andy felt her stomach clench as Laura struggled to stay upright.
Paula raised the gun again.
Andy squeezed her eyes closed, but she heard the horrible crunching sound of metal hitting bone. She was back at the farmhouse. Edwin was dead. Clara had screamed her first scream, then—
Click-click-click-click.
The cylinder spinning in the revolver.
Andy’s eyes opened.
“Fucking bitch.” Paula struck Laura across the face again. The skin had opened. Her mouth was bleeding.
Mom!Andy’s yell came out like a grunt. Mom!
“It’s gonna get worse,” Paula told Andy. “Pace yourself.”
Mom!Andy yelled. She looked at Laura, then looked at the gun, then looked back at Laura.
Think about it!
Why was Paula threatening to gut her? Why hadn’t she shot Clara at the farmhouse? Why wasn’t she shooting Laura and Andy right now?
The clicking back at the farmhouse was the sound of Paula checking to see if all of the cartridges in the revolver were spent.
She didn’t have any bullets left in the gun.