Whatever had been thrown over me had been collecting dust for at least a hundred years, and I coughed and gasped for air, making the situation even worse. Somebody standing over me grunted as he tugged at the fabric, and I cried out as what felt like a foot came in contact with my back, rolling me into a close, suffocating shroud.I fought to free my hands, but they were pinned to my sides, and I was being dragged like a bundle of dirty sheets over creaking wooden floors.And where was Augusta? No wonder she was a temporary guardian angel! She probably couldn't hold a permanent job.But she had warned me, hadn't she, about doing my part? About not allowing myself to become vulnerable. And what had I done? I had left the house without telling her and ended up in the very place where my cousin Otto met his end.The person push-pulling me grunted and panted, and thankfully stopped to rest now and then as he hauled me inch by inch across the floor. If only I could delay him until somebody came!
