3
My hands scrabbled over the wall for the switch at the top of the stairs. The light flashed on while I was looking straight at it. Half-blinded and blinking hard, I turned and tripped over my feet, catching myself on the bannister before I tumbled down the rest of the way. Lisa faced me, the gun still in her hand.
“Lisa, put the gun down! Put it on the stairs.”
I was shouting, because I couldn’t hear and nothing less than a shout would get through to her. Lisa was blinking a lot, too, but finally squatted and set the gun carefully next to her foot. I rushed down to her on legs as wooden as the stairs. We linked arms and descended to the foyer, leaving the gun behind. I looked her over carefully but didn’t see any blood.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
She shook her head, but didn’t speak.
