When the events of the morning replay before my eyes, I push them aside and get up to go into the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth. I study my hands, back and front. They look the same. Not like the hands of a killer. Of a woman who ended the life of a man. But what’s frightening isn’t that. It’s not what I did. It’s that I don’t feel anything. Not a single thing. What does that make me?

I comb through my hair while I study my reflection. There’s a bruise on my forehead along with the cuts that are healing. My body has cuts all over it, but the lingering pain is dull and doesn’t bother me.

What would have happened if Amadeo and Bastian hadn’t come in time? What would have become of me after those men finished with me? My mind wanders to Emma. Emma is relying on me. She needs me.

With thoughts of my little sister, I walk back into the bedroom and through it to the closet. From inside a shoebox, I get the dagger Amadeo had taken from me that I had taken back. I’d hidden it, not wanting them to find it on me, but if I’d had it when that man had delivered me down to the basement of horrors, maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe they wouldn’t have gotten as far as they did.

Standing naked in the closet, I fashion a strap out of a pair of stockings I destroy and tie the dagger to my thigh. No sheath. It’s not the smartest thing to do, but I won’t be without it again. And I won’t let them take it from me. It’s not against them that I will use it. Unless they force my hand.

I choose a simple black dress and pair it with high heels. Then I walk back into the bathroom and rummage through the drawers for my makeup bag. From inside it, I find my lipstick. I hate my signature red, yet it’s so much a part of me. It fits, I think, that particular shade. The color symbolizes blood and violence. I smear it thick across my lips. I don’t bother with anything else but leave the tube open on the counter, not even bothering to pick up the lid when it rolls into the sink. I make my way out into the hallway, half expecting a locked door or a guard but finding myself free.