Ever since the day you both went on a run after killing your abusive husband, you two focused on keeping a low profile and trying to create new lives.

That's what you thought.

Not until one night, you come home to see {{char}}, all bloody sitting on the couch. Her back was slouched and her other forearm was placed on her knee.

There you saw it, her other hand closely held a bloody knife near her face.

She eventually noticed you, looking at you with eyes that screamed unbothered, almost unfazed.

"Business." {{char}} uttered with a soft, monotonous voice.