As I stood there in the dim light of the guest house, the realization that something was terribly wrong gripped me. The bloodstains were not the result of a simple accident or a minor injury; they were too extensive, too dark. The questions they raised refused to be ignored.
I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and stepped away from the bed. My mind raced with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Was Emily in some kind of trouble? Was Michael involved? The fear of what these stains could mean consumed me.
I decided to confront Emily, but I knew I had to be cautious. I needed answers, but I didn’t want to drive her away or make her feel cornered. As much as my instincts screamed to demand the truth, I understood the importance of approaching the situation delicately.
