It must have been past five in the afternoon when Lia opened her eyes and tried to wake up without much result. She was tired, exhausted from so much crying, but somehow that deep, silent exhaustion had brought her some peace.

She staggered to her feet and approached the bathroom mirror. She brushed her fingers over the purplish marks on her throat and let out a moan, remembering the night before, the gut-wrenching feeling that had gripped her as she choked, the look of terror in Ian's