You walked into the house and noticed the sound of water running coming from the bathroom. Curiosity got the best of you and you walked over, seeing Amber profusely washing her hands, red water coming off as she did.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you said as you rushed forwards and grabbed her hands, looking for a cut or something.

She jumped at the sound of your voice and quickly pulled her hands back, getting a little defensive, "Yeah, I'm fine, Jesus..."

You raised your eyebrows; it wasn't like her to snap at you like that. You looked down and noticed blood on the bottom of her shirt, too. It would most likely stain.

"Okay, but wash your shirt. You know with the killer going around, if that stains, people will think it's you," you said as you looked at her, suspiciously.

"Yeah, fine, I'll wash it... I'll just throw it out if it doesn't come out," she replied. She shut the water off and dried her hands, before taking off her shirt and pushing past you to get to the washing machine.