Casey saw the large knife on the table, gleaming, beckoning, right within reach. Her eyes narrowed as she grabbed it and moved closer.
“Over.”
In one swift movement, she stabbed the heart and drew the blade straight down, making a smooth cut. She lunged again, repeating the motion.
She was about to shove the blade in for the final blow when a voice rang out from the next room.
“Don’t cut that cake, Casey! It’s for Martha’s party tonight!”