He jarred the door open. The crash of wood on paneling was deafening at this hour.
He called her again…”Sarah?”
A cursory survey of the room told him she was still there. But she didn’t answer him.
“Sarah, baby?”
Emptiness answered him.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light from the bathroom. And he saw it. Her limp hand and the razor it once held.
“Oh MY GOD !”
“Sarah!”
Then he saw the wound. The gaping maw spelling out something sinister, yet loving…Johnny it read. She had spelled his name in her own blood.
“Oh Sarah, what have you done, baby?”