Downpour accepted the hand which pulled her up from her would-be grave. She weakly stood back on her feet.
 
“One more thing. Walking around drenched in blood like that would be rather conspicuous.”
 
He was right. Her thin white cloth shirt was completely soaked from the stomach down, where she had held her arm. Said forearm was also wrapped in a tight bandage, barely stopping the bleeding. All the red would surely draw attention to her.
 
And attention was the last thing she wanted right now. No one must know.
 
Amarol removed his bulletproof vest, then the thin, black, long sleeved top underneath and handed it over to her. He also had a dark undershirt on, so he wasn’t left half-naked.
 
“Put this on.”
 
She took it hesitantly.
 
“Do you want to go back to your quarters? I’ll accompany you.” He offered.
 
“Right.” She didn’t look up from the shirt. “Just wait outside.”
 
He nodded and left.
 
Soon enough she followed, wearing the top given to her. The dark color completely concealed the blood, the sleeves hid the bandage, only her left hand and her cheek had a slight smear on them.
 
She avoided eye contact. Her cold demeanor was littered with cracks, through which something bitter seeped out. Her bloodied knife also found its way back to her pocket.
 
“Let’s go.” She muttered.
 
They left the warehouse behind.