Andromeda's breath caught as the glass plunged through her skin, deep, without hitting a single bone on the way. That was a bad sign, a fact that registered long before the pain started to bloom and burn around the entry point. Her eyes widened a second after meeting Bellatrix's, the entreaty not to remove the glass a flash through her mind just as Bellatrix wrenched it free, eons before her lips were ready to form the words. Time seemed to move so slowly. Thousands of thoughts were born and died before her knees gave out; thoughts of her husband and Rodolphus, of Dora and Teddy, of Bellatrix and the expression on her face. Was that guilt? Surprise? Shock? Would she mourn her once she was gone?
She attempted to grab a hold of her sister, but Bellatrix moved too quickly to grasp. The landing was jarring when her knees finally cracked against linoleum. The shock of it seemed to speed time up again. Andromeda lifted her hand from her side to watch for a second as dark blood flowed even more thickly, more freely than before, and returned her hand to her side as though she could staunch the flow simply by covering the wound. Bellatrix towered over her as all of the blood drained out of her face. Despite her attempts to hold onto the doorframe, Andromeda fell over, insensible fingers incapable of grasping wood that she couldn't feel in any useful way. She allowed her head to fall forward, bent over on the ground at her sister's feet. She might have looked like a supplicant, dark blood seeping between clenched fingers while she proudly attempted to hold herself upright, her weight pressed into the doorframe for support.