There was fire everywhere, and she could hardly breathe. The demon was still crashing in the kitchen, blinded, lashing out indiscriminately at cabinets and appliances; she was crawling towards the front door, blood dripping from her chin and ear.
“Leaving so soon? I don’t think he’s done with you.” She didn’t look up, but the black patent leather shoes between her and the door told her everything she needed to know.
“I’m done with him. And with you.”
“This isn’t the Girl Scouts, you don’t just quit.”
He couldn’t stop her, not physically, she knew that. She kept on crawling.