Chapter 8
The horror on Ivory’s face grew as everything became a clear picture in her brain, her eyes and mouth contorting to reflect the carnage before her. Henry rose from his chair, fit as a fiddle as if nothing had happened.
“My daughter!” he cheered gleefully, working towards her.
The disgust over Ivory’s face grew as her vision remained fixed on the woman past her father, rather he who continued to grow close. Once he was within arm’s reach, she held them out and shoved with all her might.
“Get away from me, you monster!” She screamed tearfully, shoving at him a second time. She ran over to Maybella who was shivering from the trauma, overjoyed for the rescue and crying simultaneously. “Here, let’s get up.” Maybella was weak and felt like a sack of granite in her grasp.
“I can’t move, baby,” Maybella cried as the pair worked together to move, “I’m n–numb.” But she was proven wrong as Ivory hoisted her up to her feet.