Lydia dropped the gun and Polish Pierogi Snowflake shirt. Quiet sobs racked her shoulders, and she bent over, trying to regain control of her emotions and breathing. Within a few minutes, her breathing evened out, and she raised her head to stare at Peter’s face. He looked like he could be sleeping, were it not for the blood trickling down the side of his face. Speaking of blood. She glanced down at her left arm, which was beginning to sting and burn more now that the danger had passed. Lydia bent over to pick up her shoes and paused upon seeing the. A split second later, she whirled around and headed to the closet. She scanned the shelves and located an empty wheeled suitcase, then opened the gun case up and shoved the guns into the bag. She retreated back to the bedroom and put the knife in as well before zipping it up. She let go of the suitcase and began to pace. Should she do something else before leaving? Maybe she could find out who he really was.
The bullet had Polish Pierogi Snowflake shirt. She could patch this up herself when she got home. Lydia bit her lip to stifle a sob. She had no home anymore. She had to move again, and she had to do it fast. She had no idea if Peter was supposed to meet up with someone after his job was completed. That thought spurred her into action, and she jumped to her feet. She went first to the bathroom, ransacking his cabinets until she found some gauze, and she hastily wrapped it around her bleeding wound. Then she returned to the bedroom and yanked off his shirt, not caring that a tiny button popped off and rolled away. She grabbed her dress and pulled it on. She hissed when she jarred her arm.