Jana stood there shaking. Her hands and shirt are bloody. She drops the box cutter, and falls to her knees and weeps. Everything happened so fast, her brain was trying to catch up with her body. Should she call 911? Self-defense could be tough to prove. There are no cameras, she knew her assailant, and agreed to meet in a secluded area. Jana looks around the construction site, and not a soul in sight. She pulls out her cell phone, and she has no signal. She convinced herself that God knows the truth, and the lack of a signal was a sign from him not to call the police. Jana put her hood up and covers her clothes with a drop cloth laying nearby. She walks 10 blocks, not making eye contact with anyone. The streets were sparse anyway because of the lateness of the hour. Jana dumps her bloody hoodie, the box cutter, and the drop cloth in the dumpster behind her apartment. She thought to herself that trash day is tomorrow, and the evidence will be gone. She gets in the shower, and wets down her body. The blood washes down the drain as Jana cries under the shower head. She stops and began to breathe deeply through her mouth. She leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and slowly cracks open a bedroom door. A small child is sleeping in bed. Jana looks on lovingly and confirmed to herself that she did the right thing. Hopefully her son will never know what she had to do to his father.