Nanny and the Alpha Daddy

Chapter 212

#Chapter 212: The Golden Knife

Moana

One moment, I was in the interrogation room with the police officer sitting across from me.

“Ms. Fowler?” he asked, standing from his seat with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

My eyes were wide and my hands were shaking. I was standing with my back against the wall, feeling as though I couldn’t get a full breath into my lungs. The room felt as though it was closing in on me, and I felt trapped inside like an animal caught in a net.

And then, suddenly, I felt my knees buckle under me. I fell to the ground, and then everything went dark with only Edrick being the very last thing on my mind.

…

When I woke up, I was in a dark room. In fact, it was pitch black… But when I held my hands up in front of my face, I found that I could see my own hands perfectly. The room itself was black, like a void.

and heavy. There

out again. This time, after a few minutes

I immediately recognized it

an eternity, but also a split second at the same time. Was I sleeping? Was this just

what had happened at first, but finally it started to come back to me. I remembered being in the interrogation room. I was answering the police officer’s questions, but it started to get to be too much, and I started having flashbacks when he started asking about the specifics of what happened in the warehouse. No matter how hard I tried to stay focused and keep myself level-headed, I couldn’t stop seeing Ethan’s gun in front of my face. At one point, I started to hyperventilate. Yes; that had to be it. I hyperventilated and lost consciousness. Surely any minute now

void. I moved around, or at least I felt like I

I was dead. If this was what it was like to be dead, I thought to myself, then it was awful and lonely. The thought of being conscious with nothing but a void around me for all eternity made me

it was real, and if someone else was here with me. But when I started to see Michael’s face materializing in front of me, I wished that it was neither of those things. I would have rather

I told Michael, taking a few steps back. But he didn’t speak. He just sneered at me, and eventually the rest of his body came into view as though he was loading into this new instance, like a virtual reality. His

knife, though. It was golden — even the blade itself was golden — with an ornate handle

felt a gasp catch in my throat and I whirled around to see a sheer drop below me

I whipped back around to see that he was closer now. The knife was raised, ready to stab me. When I turned around, the tip of the knife was nothing more than a mere centimeter from my face and I shrieked, stumbling

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