I don't think I've ever been in such a state of

Horror.

--

First I was scared.

How

—Why?—

Could anyone harm Sara Sidle?

--

But then,

Of course,

It turned to an undeniable hatred

Of

Natalie Davis.

--

I wanted to

Kill

Her.

--

I wanted to douse her bare body in

Bleach

And watch her squirm.

--

I wanted to make her

Swallow

The stuff and die within her own feared poison.

--

I

Wanted

Her

Dead.

--

As the day

The horrible, terrible nightmare

Unfolded, my panic grew.

What was to become of

Sara?

What would happen to the woman we'd come

To know and to

Love?

--

I clutched my arms with nails like razors,

Protecting my chest against the daggers of the screen

The poisons of Sara's sure death.

But would it come?

--

As Sara's lover and dear colleagues searched for her location,

She walked painfully away,

Delusional, sick and dehydrated.

She was ill.

She would die.

--

But Nick found her.

--

Nick, angel upon angels, found her.

--

He jumped madly out of his vehicle and rushed to her side,

Franticly checking for a pulse,

Talking to her,

Crying to her,

Getting her blood on his sleeves.

--

He saved her.

And he saved me.