Daniel turned on me, his face a mask of hatred. He slammed me against the wall, his hands shooting up to my throat.

His thumbs drove into my windpipe. My air cut off. I clawed at his face, his eyes, but his grip was iron. Black spots bloomed in my vision. The roar of blood in my ears drowned out my mother’s screams.

I was losing consciousness. The room faded to grey.

Then a sound cut through the roar.

CRASH.

The unmistakable sound of the heavy front door being battered off its hinges downstairs.