"I, uh... I tripped." She held back a wince as he examined her leg, remembering the man who had tried to drag her by her hair into a back alley among the chaos. Her knife still held a bit of dried blood on the handle, though it was difficult to differentiate from the dark hilt.<br/><br/>And she had tripped... as she was running away from the man making gurgling sounds as he bled out in the alley.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffa500">If you get a chance, go for the throat</span></i>, her dad had told her.<br/><br/><i>"And you don't know how to use the gun I gave you, do you?"</i><br/><br/>Her eyes refocused on Michael, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Nope."