The marble floor felt like ice against Claire's cheek as she fought the overwhelming urge to close her eyes forever.
She reaches into her sweater pocket with trembling hands.
SFX: Fabric rustling
Claire: (Whimpering) Come on... almost... almost had it...
Her fingertips scraped against the smooth edge of a metal keychain and the familiar texture of leather.
The rustling fabric echoed loudly in the cavernous foyer, though the women upstairs were too busy whispering to notice.
Claire: (Gasping for air) If they see me move... Victoria will finish the job right now.
She clenched her jaw tightly, channeling every ounce of her remaining willpower into her right hand.
Her fingers wrapped firmly around the rectangular shape resting deep within the sweater pocket.
Claire: (Soft cough) Just breathe... ignore the pain... just reach the button...
The sharp pain in her ribs flared up again, threatening to force her fingers open and drop her only hope.
She blinked rapidly to clear the dark spots dancing across her vision as the ceiling chandeliers seemed to sway.
Can a mortally wounded woman pull off a miracle right under the nose of her killer?