Ewan heard a scream, a loud guttering shout filled with immense sorrow, anger, and frustration from somewhere nearby.
He didn't realize until he felt the rough flesh beneath his hands, until he heard the pleading words floating around him—loud yet stifled at the same time—that the shout had come from him; that after Fiona's last declaration, he had lost control.
When he felt hands grabbing his shoulders, pulling him away from the flesh he was strangling with all his might, he realized that the rough flesh was Fiona's neck—and that he had been choking her, almost to the point of death.
"Ewan…please…I'm…sorry…" Her mangled voice finally reached his ears, and he let go.
Not because he was concerned about how ashen she looked, but because he heard Old Mr. Thorne calling out to him. Even Sandro.
