I gasped in horror, my eyes wide with fright as I stared at my once white gown, “Is that blood on my dress?”
Surely, I was not bleeding right? I did not have any wounds, if not, I would know. I will be feeling the pain too.
“Oh, hell,” Eva cussed and I raised my face to hers. She looked very apologetic, “That’s not blood. You are not bleeding. It is from the wine I was holding. I totally forgot Abigail it when I was trying to stop you from planting your face on the floor,”
“Oh?” That was the only thing that left my mouth because what else could I say? I had not even noticed her holding a glass of wine. Having wine on my dress was actually better than having my blood on it. A sign of relief left me.
While I was glad that I was not bleeding and that it was merely a wine, I could not stop
