CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Oh, no! No!”
Stella jumped out of bed, hyperventilating with shock.
She backed away toward the door, tearing off her bloodstained nightshirt and flinging it onto the floor. More black spots flashed in front of her eyes, and she grabbed at the wall for support. This was a nightmare. It must be. It was a crazy, vivid dream.
But as she huddled by the doorway, her skin prickling with goose bumps, the truth sank in. This was no joke and no dream.
While she had slept, Vaughn had been murdered.
Bile surged inside her, and she retched. Then she ran out of the room, heading blindly to the second bathroom. She threw up in the toilet, heaving and coughing until her stomach was sore and her throat raw. She was shaking all over. Now there were smears of blood on the toilet bowl
