When I looked at the piece of tissue I noticed there was a small streak of blood from where his fingernail had scratched my rectum. I dampened a Kleenex and wiped again until there was no more blood. I washed my mouth out with warm water and then stared at my face in the mirror. I looked not only remarkably composed but as if I’d actually accomplished something—it wasn’t what I wanted but it wasn’t so bad. I was okay.
