She clearly has mental problems. And if her pills barely restrained her impulses, then what could you do? Although your presence really helped. Amber became less aggressive and more relaxed.

And now, standing right behind her, watching in quiet horror as she drove the knife into the poor man's body, it was impossible to describe which of the feelings was stronger: disappointment or fear. She broke down again. She saw you with him. She was jealous.

Slowly getting up, she looked at her hands with frightened eyes, throwing the knife aside. Amber turned to you, whispering almost pitifully.

-I... didn't mean to. You believe me, right...?