The next day you demand freedom and head into work. One of the office janitors is out in front clearing away the crime scene tape. Stains from blood are still obvious but they have been power washed. No longer are they red, just dark gray but you know exactly what they used to be. When you walk into the office, you’re greeted by a group of secretaries gathered around the receptionist desk. One of the secretary’s reaches out and hugs you. “Sam! We’re so glad that you’re okay! How scary for you to see Mr. Hansforth attacked like that! It’s a good thing you were here to call the police.” She leans in and hugs you again. One of the other nosey secretaries eyes you curiously. “Just what were you and Mr. Hansforth doing here at the office on a Sunday?” You give her your winter frost

