I panicked as soon as I saw the blood in the center of my chest above my breasts. "Oh my God, I've been cut…"

Somehow I was in the passenger seat of the car with my blouse peeled open and Bill grimacing at the bloody wound. Luckily the windows were tinted.

"She sliced you pretty good. I'm sorry, but I think you're going to need stitches."

I gaped at him as he drove us to General Hospital—now named University Hospital. You didn't need insurance to get treated ...