<div style="text-align: justify;">The woman who had been sitting on the floor allowed Carl to practically carry her to the couch. She wouldn't have been able to walk there alone, not without dropping midway. Being laid down made the woman sigh in relief. The room was still blurry, but it was slowly becoming steady. That was enough for now. Another relieved sigh escaped the woman's lips when the dampened paper towel touched her forehead. That felt good. While he cleaned her wound, the woman tried to collect her thoughts. What had happened, indeed?<br/><br/>"I don't know", she whispered. While the woman tried to remember something, she touched her side. The dark brown blouse had a gash, and she could feel something warm on her fingers. Lifting them up to her eyes, she noticed it was blood. Well, that explained the burning pain there. It seemed like whatever had injured her had only grazed her skin, but it still hurt.<br/><br/>"The bakery downstairs...", the woman continued, trying to keep her gaze focused on the man. "I don't really... remember anything". After a pause and a deep breath, she went on speaking. "I just woke up... Mr. Newton, I... I think he is dead... Oh, God!", she exclaimed all of a sudden, trying to sit down. "You... please, check on him, I'll be fine!", the woman pleaded. "I... I will wait here... but please, please go downstairs. It's not locked".<br/><br/>Finishing her plead, the woman waited for a response from the detective, feeling her heart tighten in her chest. What the hell had happened? Who would want to harm them?</div>