A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

hands. Her hair spills across her face. Her eyes are punch-drunk
with fever and fear.
“Mommy,” she says. Her tiny voice wobbles, seeing Bea with the
hammer just steps behind me, listening to Bea and me fight.
It all happens at the very same time.
Delilah’s eyes turn to swimming pools. They fill with tears.
“Mommy. The remote doesn’t work,” she says as I feel the
immobilizing pain of the hammer striking my head from behind. It’s
more shock than pain. I try to speak, to tell her to run, but my words
are suddenly slurred. My legs collapse and I’m falling. The garage
spins. The cold garage floor catches me, and then, all there is, is
blackness.