Sharona loomed over her, panting, her hair disheveled. "You stupid little bitch," she hissed. Her hands found Sylvia's throat and clamped down. Hard. Sylvia's gasp turned to a strangled sound, her hands flying up to claw at Sharona's arms.
Nails dug into flesh, drawing blood, but Sharona didn't relent.
Sylvia's lungs burned. Her heart pounded in her ears so loud she could barely hear Sharona's ragged voice above her. Her hands flailed wildly, searching the rug beside her. Her fingertips brushed the neck of the bourbon bottle that had rolled off the table.
She stretched, vision dimming at the edges, her nails scraping glass until her hand finally closed around it. With one final, desperate surge of strength, she swung.
The thick glass connected with the side of Sharona's skull with a brutal crack before splintering into shards. Sharona's body jerked, her grip loosening instantly.
