𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 • 𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

𝑡𝑒𝑛

『𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧: 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲』

Widow swiftly unrolls her sleeve, concealing the small blade with a deft motion. As she turns to the source of the voice, her eyes lock onto Gwen, who stands gracefully by the window.

A hushed "Oh... hi, Gwen" escapes Widow's lips. Her voice carries a tinge of secrecy, a reflection of her hidden agenda.

Widow's keen observation doesn't miss the fact that Gwen stands alone, prompting her to inquire, "Where are the others?"

Gwen, her eyes mirroring a mixture of worry and determination, replies, "Oh, they're still fighting the villains."

A heavy silence hangs in the room, the weight of unspoken emotions suffusing the air. Gwen finally breaks the quietude, her words softly landing like fragile petals on the floor.

"I saw what happened to your uncle... Sorry for your loss," Gwen says, offering her condolences as she empathizes with Widow's grief, the compassion evident in her eyes.

Widow's response is almost imperceptible, her voice barely more than a murmur. "It's fine," she whispers, her tone a testament to her inner turmoil.

As Gwen's gaze falls to the crimson liquid staining the floor, her curiosity gets the better of her, and she inquires gently, "Widow... What's the red stuff on the floor?"

Widow's gaze follows Gwen's, landing on the pool of her own blood, briefly caught off guard. Swiftly, she conjures an excuse, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "It's paint."

Gwen's intuition prickles with suspicion, recalling Widow's earlier statement about her disinterest in art during their bus ride. But for now, she lets it slide, not wanting to press too hard. "Okay," she responds, leaving the question unspoken but lingering in the air.

Gwen's curiosity leads her to move away from the window, settling onto the bed. However, as she sits, an unexpected, uncomfortable sensation beneath her jolts her back into alertness. She quickly rises and discovers the object she unwittingly sat on – a sharpener, its blade conspicuously absent, a loose screw remaining.

Widow's heart quickens its pace, a surge of anxiety coursing through her as she watches Gwen's puzzled discovery. Inwardly, she thinks, "Shit."

Gwen's concern deepens as she gazes at Widow, then back at the mysterious "paint" on the floor. Doubts and questions start to knit together in her mind, forming a web of suspicion that she can't easily dismiss.

"Widow... Can I see your wrists?" Gwen's words hang in the air, a fragile request filled with genuine concern. She stops in front of Widow, her gaze filled with empathy.