# Chapter 49: The Garrote in the Dark
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 49 of "Forget You Saw Her free digital audiobook". And wow—this chapter is not a quiet walk through secrets. It is a sprint through terror, a mother's worst nightmare wrapped around her throat like a wire. So take a breath, hold tight, and let's step back into Sabina's night.
Sabina's blood pounds in her ears as she rushes away from the blinking orange lights of the apartment complex. Her mind is a storm of horror, sadness, and a strange, electric excitement. In one hand she clutches a pepper spray canister; in the other, her keys. The smell of mildew and urine clings to the air as she hurries back into the night, heading for her car. She is desperate to call Joel and Nadia—and even more desperate to call the police. But she cannot risk blurting out everything Rita just told her in confidence, especially not where one of Rita's managers might overhear through a cracked window. So she races toward the car instead. She will call Joel, then Nadia, as soon as she is safely locked inside.
She knows they will both be upset with her. She knows she has been reckless. But her instincts—or maybe Andrea—were right. "Amy Sue" had information. She was terrified, and rightly so. Rita never would have talked if Sabina had brought the police in right away. Given all that, Sabina figures Joel and Nadia will forgive her. She will apologize as soon as she can. But first, she has to catch her breath. After what she learned over the last hour, she doubts she can string together a coherent sentence.
Because one truth keeps pounding in her head with every step: Dennis Beaumont killed Isabel Palphreyman.
Sabina knows it now. This new information from Rita will be enough to make Isabel's parents reconsider the autopsy. It will be enough for the police to get a warrant to search Dennis's house, to look for evidence of foul play. Her stomach churns when she thinks about what Rita described—the last time she saw Isabel in this apartment complex. Sabina can only imagine what Dennis did when he found Isabel at the underpass. She can only imagine what he did to Andrea.
Tears sting her cheeks as she comes around the hulking line of juniper bushes. One short block to the car. The keys are already laced between her fingers, ready to be a weapon if she needs one. "Mother—fucking—bastard," she whispers between ragged breaths. It feels good to run. It feels good to do something with the adrenaline that has been screaming at her to act, to fight for her daughter, and for Isabel. Then there is a rustle behind her, followed by the slightest scrape from the thick line of bushes she just rushed past.
She turns her head—but not in time.
Before she can fully understand what is happening, something cold wraps around her throat. A cord. A thick wire. She cannot tell. It bites into her skin like a garrote, so forcefully that she nearly falls backward as she tries to lurch forward. She gasps—or tries to. But no air comes in or out. The strap pulls tighter as rough fingertips dig into her neck with relentless pressure, pulling her backward against a thick, blocky frame.
"Fucking bitch!" a voice hisses.
Sabina does not need to see him to know who it is. No, no, no, no. She claws at her neck, scrambling to reach the car alarm button on the key fob or mash the trigger on the pepper spray, but everything is moving too fast. The key and the pepper spray fall to the ground, useless. She stumbles backward against him, then goes down on her knees, bucking wildly. The world tilts. Stars swirl above her. Her vision flashes white. She barely feels the pain—just the pressure that screams, You're going to die, and the primal terror that screams back even louder, You have to fight!
Her lungs spasm uselessly. Her mouth gapes like a fish out of water. She cannot make a sound. He pants like a dog behind her, grunting each time he pulls the cord a little tighter, stumbling backward a few steps as her weight presses against him. A sinking, falling sensation fills her stomach, like she is in an elevator plunging downward. She is going to pass out. It is only a matter of seconds.
Go dead weight, demands a stern voice somewhere inside her.
And then Sabina sees her. Standing before her. Andrea. Her daughter. Not the chubby baby she handed to the social worker, but the seventeen-year-old from the high school photo. Her eyes are wide with panic, and she looks as desperate as Sabina feels. Even though Sabina's lungs are spasming from lack of oxygen, she cannot help thinking about how beautiful she is. Her precious, precious girl.
Fight for me! Go dead weight, Andrea demands, her eyes wild. She bends her knees abruptly, miming the motion.
This time, Sabina obeys. For just a moment, he loses his grip on the cord as she crumples to her knees. Elbow him hard! Now! Use your left arm! The cord around her neck slackens the tiniest bit, and Sabina gasps in a lungful of air. Then she lifts her left arm forward as far as she can and swings the sharp point of her elbow directly up into his groin.
The sound he makes—half yelp, half gurgle of shock and pain—sends a fresh jolt of adrenaline spiking through her. The white dots vanish from her vision. So does Andrea. The cord fully loosens, and Sabina's fingers clamp down around it, yanking it free and tossing it as far as she can while he falls backward onto the cement. She hears a rustle as the cord lands somewhere out of sight, then a dull crack on the pavement followed by a muffled howl of pain.
Sabina pushes to her feet and runs. She does not look behind her to see how badly he is hurt. She lunges forward, away from him. Her legs feel disconnected from the rest of her body, and so do her fingers, but somehow both obey, propelling her back in the direction of the dimly lit apartments. Could she make it back to Rita's apartment? Would anyone else open up to banging on their door at this hour? Surely someone would come into the courtyard to see what was wrong. It does not matter who. Anyone. A witness, a helper—she will take what she can get right now.
But when she tries to scream, all that comes out is a croaking hiss. "Call the police!" she tries to say as her clumsy fingers grab hold of the cell in her pocket and hit the home button. But the words are too quiet, too garbled. Nothing happens when she glances down at the screen.
She keeps running forward, trying to pull up the keypad to dial 9-1-1. She has made it as far as the walkway that circles the apartment courtyard. In just a few seconds, she will be out of the darkness beyond the juniper bushes. And then, for the second time tonight, she hears footsteps on the pavement and feels someone grab her from behind.
## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
This chapter left me breathless. The writing is so visceral that I could feel the cord biting into Sabina's throat, the panic of no air, the desperate love for Andrea pushing her to fight when her body was ready to give up. The appearance of Andrea—whether a ghost, a hallucination, or a mother's instinct made flesh—was both heartbreaking and powerful. It turned a brutal attack into a testament to maternal love and survival. The pacing is relentless, and the cliffhanger is absolutely cruel in the best way. I was on the edge of my seat, and I am still reeling.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
The final line drops us into pure dread: someone has grabbed Sabina from behind. Is it Dennis, recovered and enraged? Or is it Joel, Nadia, or even the police, finally arriving after her reckless solo mission? My prediction is that Joel has tracked her down or followed her, and he will pull her out of danger just as Dennis tries to finish what he started. But I also suspect Dennis will escape into the night, leaving behind a trail of evidence that finally forces the police to take Isabel's death seriously. Either way, Sabina is about to learn whether the hands on her now belong to rescue or retaliation—and I cannot wait to find out.
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