As they had both feared, it was not Alex. Carl's cunning stepbrother Marvin stood in front of them, his face twisted in agony. His costly suit sleeve was stained with blood as his arm dangled limp at his side.
They were temporarily immobilized by shock. How on earth was Marvin, wounded and apparently caught red-handed, there? Was he the trespasser or the one who was trespassed against?
Marvin spoke, his voice raspy with agony, before they could ask their inquiries. He wheezed, his words spilling over one another, "Carl... you won't believe it... Alex..."
Carl's expression was a kaleidoscope of emotions, including perplexity, mistrust, and a fleeting hint of worry. "Alex?
What about Alex?" he said, advancing cautiously.
Marvin flinched and gripped his hurt arm. "She assaulted me,
