Not an emotion easily forgotten. The adrenaline floods the nervous system, bringing back the rush of memories.
Every moment instantly recalled, fresh panic layering over the old remnants.
She was 5, maybe 6, and her father was drunk, again. But this time her mother wasn’t there to shield her from his wrath. He was shouting. Something about dinner, or maybe winner. He came crashing through their small house and was shouting her name.
Shaking, she ran.
She knew the bombs strayed from the Front, their intended targets, the men. Their deafening wall of noise, the whistling that came with the shelling. The scream was building in her chest. When the noise abruptly stopped.
Rene looked at her with possession in his eyes and his calloused, grubby hands on her throat. The brick wall hard and cold at her back. She loathed herself for long after.
Because she froze.
Foyle had Jane and Jack and they might be dead because of her. And Foyle, smiling gently, revealed the horror he inflicted on Janey. The creature made her blood boil.
She fought him like a tiger.
Jack blinked and repeated himself, “I said, ‘I love you, Phryne Fisher.’”
Phryne’s body couldn’t decide what to do first.