It shone in the early morning light, lying perfect against her collarbone. Links of silver twisted tightly together, the result of being drawn tautly against the skin of her throat.
The welts stood out angrily on the porcelain landscape. Each of them an imperfect memory of terror and pain.
Her chest rises then falls, shallow, calmer now. Only moments before, panic ruled her body.
The lesson seared into her mind. She’d processed her survival, wondering if there was something she could have done to prevent it.
But accidents happen and necklaces can get tangled in all sorts of random things…
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