Maybe she had finally killed him. One could only hope. There hadn't been time to stop and make certain that the job was complete. She had to run. Breaking off the yoke of her captivity, she was afraid that to lessen her steps even the slightest would mean her actions would catch up with her. Death would be too swift a punishment for what she had done. No, if he survived, he would make certain that she wished for death. Of course, the joke would be on him. She already desired to be dead. Living was harder.