She told him that the entrance to her house from the backyard was unlocked. As Dario got into her house, he saw her sitting on a kitchen chair, holdin... a cloth over the cut on her foot. When he lifted the cloth away, he could see a small but nasty cut from a piece of flying glass. Dario figured, it was not dangerous or deep to have cut any veins. In a few minutes, he had the surgical gauze, the sealing tape and the closing tape over it and bleeding was properly stopped and she did not complain. On the phone came her hiss, “Go away!” “I won’t.” “Are you drunk? Are you stoned? Go away, Justin! My dad will kill me!” “You get down here or I’ll pound on this horn ‘til everybody in your fucking neighborhood is awake, Ina,” I said calmly, no slur despite the whiskey. I was proud of myself. “If you don’t leave, I’ll kill you myself,” she muttered. I gave a light tap on my horn. Not loud enough to wake anyone, but loud enough to let her know I’m serious. “Need any more encouragements?” I asked. More

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