Page 77 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

I struggled with everything in me as my face started to feel hot and tingly, as my chest burned from lack of oxygen.

Focus.

I had to focus.

There had to be a way out of this.

I wasn’t exactly a big consumer of true crime. My life had enough of that all around. I didn’t want to indulge in it for “fun.”

But I was a woman in the world.

And the daughter of a cop.

I knew some things.

Like strangulation took a lot longer than people realized.

Four or five minutes.

It was a long-ass time.

Most people had no idea what five minutes felt like while doing something.

Decision made, I forced my entire body to go lax, sinking into the hard floor.

The movement screwed with his hold on me, allowing me to suck in one last, deep breath before the pressure came back.

It was enough, I hoped, to sustain me as I faked my own damn death right there on my own damn bedroom floor.

To distract myself from the pain in my neck and chest, I counted.

One to sixty, then back down to one.

I only got back and forth once before the pressure released on my neck. Then there was a short pause before the weight lifted from my hips.

I had to focus to keep myself perfectly still, to not release my held breath and suck in a fresh one as soon as his body was off of mine.

I stayed there, body stick still, as my attacker backed into the doorway, seeming to stop, watching me, making sure the deed was done, before moving away.

I listened to make sure the footsteps were moving toward the front of the house before I sucked in a breath so deep it hurt.

But I didn’t move.

I didn’t dare.

I didn’t even breathe normally, just in case he rushed back and looked in.

I was dead, damnit, dead.

I listened as the footsteps came back, paused, then made their way out back, the screen door smacking against the wall again.

I still didn’t move, barely breathed.

My bedroom had windows.

I couldn’t remember if the blinds were all the way down, if someone could look inside to make sure I was good and dead.

I started counting again.

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