Deborah was unmoored in the sea of heaving flesh. She gagged at the tremendous reek of filthy skin mingled with sweat. Someone’s shoulder slammed into her jaw, and she tasted blood. Rank breath assaulted her as screaming mouths spat hatred and accusations. The clawing fingers that had pulled down Dobbs were now seeking purchase in her clothing. She cursed the ponderous dress. It was all-the-more a prison now, and it would contribute to her death.
Someone grabbed her wrist. She was being pulled into the mob. Deborah struggled with all her might against it. A fist connected with her cheek. A bright flash danced across her vision, accompanied by the keen edge of pain. She swooned. The insistent hand took the opportunity to drag her along.
“Leave off, whores and bastards,” som...
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