"I can explain…" Jemma gasped. Panicked, she registered the dying man and moved to help him. She ripped pieces of clothe from her dress and began trying to stem the bleeding. By some miracle, there was still a faint heartbeat, but she couldn't discern if he could pull through.
"Explain what?"
"Please… I… I am sorry," Jemma felt some sort of liquid secreting from her eyes. Was she crying? She couldn't afford to cry. There was a life to save, and it would be her fault if she failed to do so. She should have prioritized saving the innocent man over the drunkard. For that matter, she should have stepped in to stop the drunkard as soon as the knife first came out.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I killed him…" Jemma realized. "I… I'm a murderer…"
"Jemma, you are many things, but a murderer is not one of them."
