I stood there paralyzed, trembling and panting. In shock. With blood streaming down my left arm, dripping off my fingertips, I stared vacantly down at Wentworth’s body sprawled on the floor. The knife was still sticking out of his ribs. His shirt was wet with blood. From under his body, a small, dark pool began to spread on the floor.For the next few agonizing minutes, my mind went blank. Sometime later, I remembered only the sound of a distant siren, growing closer and closer.
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