Anne's rage
"You whore, Mary! You whore!" Anne's hand rose and whipped forward through the air – so quickly I scarcely had time to realise what was happening before she had struck me across the base of my throat.
My head snapped back with the force of the blow.
"Apologise!" she snarled, towering over me, her fury icy cold. I watched her beautiful face, contorted with rage.
"Pax, sister" I whimpered.
Thank God it was enough. She let me go.
Staggering to the door, I silently vowed revenge.