You're pacing the floor of your apartment, hands knotting in your hair as you struggle to gain a grip on what just happened. How badly you just made things.
You pushed her down the stairs. But that's not the bad part.. you pushed her down the stairs and she's okay. Someone else on the stairs broke her fall, and now you are FUCKED.
She knows everything. She'll tell him everything. She'll tell the building, but most importantly and horribly of all.. she'll tell Daniel.
What are you going to do?
Goddamnit it, what are you GOING to DO?
There's a knife on your kitchen counter. It's shining and silver and unfulfilled.
You pick it up, and a cold determination washes over you. You've never killed someone, but it feels like it's going to be easy.