Seizing the moment, Millie bolted past him, adrenaline propelling her down the stairs. She reached the front door, only to find it locked, the key missing.

“Going somewhere?” Andrew’s voice, though pained, echoed from behind.

She turned to see him advancing, eyes red and furious. Desperation fueled her as she grabbed a decorative vase and hurled it at him, buying precious seconds. Racing to the kitchen, she flung open drawers until her fingers closed around a knife.

Andrew entered, a predatory smile on his lips. “You think you can fight me?”

“I won’t be your victim,” she spat, brandishing the blade.

The ensuing struggle was brutal. Andrew’s strength overpowered her, the knife slipping from her grasp. He pinned her to the cold tile floor, his hands tightening around her throat.

“Any last words?” he whispered, breath hot against her ear.

With the last of her strength, Millie kneed him hard in the groin. As he recoiled, she scrambled for the knife, gripping it with trembling hands.

“Stay back!” she warned, voice hoarse.

But Andrew lunged, and instinct took over. The blade found its mark, plunging into his side. He gasped, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing.