A BACKFIRING FAVOR

As Emily watched in horror, the man mustered his strength and yanked the knife from his flesh, his cry of agony piercing the air. In the ensuing frenzy, the room was suddenly filled with people, chaos erupting all around.

Seizing the opportunity, Melissa started to flee. But Emily's quick wit kicked in as she shouted, "Hold her!" The boys in the vicinity wasted no time, grasping Melissa's arms tightly, preventing her from vanishing into the maelstrom.

Emily, roused from her shock, sprang to her feet. Her gaze met the injured man, his hand spilling blood as his heart pounded rapidly. Her own injuries, a few bruises sustained during the sudden push, were negligible in comparison to his plight.

Emily shouted frantically, "We need help!" As she grasped the man's bleeding hand.

In a flurry of motion, Alexis, Emily's friend and seatmate, dashed to his side. "I can assist," she said, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic liquid and pouring it onto the wound.

The man let out a pained groan at the sudden sting, and Emily quickly ripped a strip of fabric from her own clothing to staunch the bleeding and bind the wound. The man's hand throbbed with intense pain, yet he found his eyes locked upon Alexis, the agony momentarily forgotten.

As the ruckus attracted more onlookers, including Emily's parents and several professors, the chaotic scene unfolded with rapidity.

As Alexis jolted the man from his stupor, he was suddenly aware of his wound again, the pain flaring to life.

"Take him to the clinic," Emily commanded, her voice urgent and resolute.

Lucy and Alexis steadied the man, lifting him to his feet and quickly escorting him from the room. Emily, her clothing now soaked with the man's blood, stood admist the wreckage of the scene, the knife a silent witness of the earlier violence.

The lecturers, caught in the confusion, exchanged perplexed glances, seeking to make sense of the situation. Emily parents and Camilla rushed to her side, their concern palpable.

"Are you okay?" They asked, their eyes wide with worry.

Emily's voice trembled as she spoke, "She tried to kill me. I could have been stabbed. Her accusation was directed at Melissa, who squirmed against the grip of her captors, denying the charge vehemently, "Liar! I didn't do anything!"

"Melissa was about to strike me down with the knife, when a stranger intervened, taking the blow in his own hand, sparing me from a fatal wound to the heart." Emily's words echoed with fear and gratitude for the unknown hero.

"I didn't do it, she's lying!" Melissa shouted in denial, her desperate attempts at deception fruitless.

As the lecturer who had sent a staff member to retrieve security footage returned, the truth was revealed. The video played, exposing the vicious attack. Melissa's cold-blooded attempt on Emily's life unfolded before the room, proving Emily's account to be truthful. The evidence spoke for itself, rendering Melissa's lies powerless in the face of irrefutable proof.

With a stoic demeanor, Mrs. Evelyn, Emily's lecturer, declared, "We will deal with this situation."

Emily's father, incensed by the attempted attack on his daughter, raged, "I want her put behind bars for this!"

Mrs. Evelyn, calm in the face of danger, replied, "We've already contacted the authorities. The police are on their way."

As the lecturer's finger leveled at Emily, the words were spoken with a firmness that brooked no argument. "Take her out of here," they ordered.

Emily's father, his voice ringing with fury, demanded justice for his daughter: "This girl must be prosecuted for attempted murder!"

With gentle hands, Emily's mother and Camilla guided her from the scene of the crime, leading her away from the tumult.

In the reprieve of the clinic's quite corner, Emily's mother and Camilla offered solace and support.

Gazing upon Emily's stoic facade, her mother whispered, "Emily are you all right?"

Emily, her voice a hallow echo, replied, "I'm fine."

Reaching out with empathy, Emily's mother, her voice quivering, implored, "Emily, I know you hate us. We've had our share of problems, but my heart would break if anything happened to you."

Emily's countenance remained unchanged, her eyes staring into the distance as she stood and replied, "I am fine."

Emily's mother's voice pierced the silence, her eyes alighting upon the bruises on her daughter's hand.

"You have bruises," she said, her tone laced with worry.

Emily, her voice a steely echo, retorted, "Now you care. I am fine." With purposeful strides, she turned and walked away.

Emily's mother, her voice trembling with worry, called out to her daughter as she walked away. "Emily where are you going?"

Emily, resolute in her purpose, replied without looking back, "I'm going to find the man who saved me." With her words lingering in the air, she strode out of sight.

Mrs. Keven, her heart heavy with worry, turned to Camilla, her voice quaking with vulnerability, "Camilla, please help me talk to her. Emily's behavior had been like this far too long. It's breaking my heart."

Camilla, her hand on Mrs. Kevan's shoulder, offered gentle reassurance, "Mrs. Kevan, everything will be alright," she said.

Emily, determined to find the stranger who had saved her life, sought out guidance from a nurse. Following the nurse's directions, Emily approached a door and, with a gentle push, she entered the room.

The scene before her was the one of levity, the stranger laughing heartily while Alexis told a tale of mirth, and Lucy, a witness to their joy. Emily cleared her throat, the sound rippling through the air and catching the attention of the trio.

Lucy, her eyes glinting with understanding, gently nudged Alexis, "Alright, let's come back later to check on you." She ushered Alexis out of the room, their footsteps fading into the distance, leaving Emily and the stranger alone.

Emily seated herself across from the stranger, her eyes studying him carefully.

"You look quite alright," she remarked, her voice tentative yet curious.

"Yeah, but the pain is definitely still there," the stranger responded, his words tinged with a hint of grimace.

Emily, her voice direct, wasted no time in conveying her gratitude. "I'm Emily. Thank you for saving my life. I might not have made it out of that room without you." Her sincerity was evident, her words resonating with truth.

The stranger, his expression warm and friendly, replied, "I'm Desmond. It was my pleasure, Emily. I'm just glad I was able to intervene."

As he spoke, he extended his uninjured hand, offering a handshake to cement their newfound bond. Emily grasped his hand with a firm grip, a silent acknowledgement of the dept she now owed him.

Emily leaned forward, her curiosity evident. "Desmond, why did you risk your life to save mine, a complete stranger? It could have ended so much worse for you."

Desmond, his expression pensive, responded, "I saw an opportunity to make a difference, to do something good. When I saw the danger you were in, I knew I had to act. It's not everyday you get a chance to save a life, and I just couldn't stand by and watch." His words were humble, his courage undeniable.

Emily, her eyes reflecting curiosity inquired, "How did you know I was there?"

Desmond, his voice gentle and sure, replied, "Oh, I was there long before you arrived. You were just a bit too occupied to notice me."

Emily's expression transformed, her gratitude overwhelming. "Thank you for saving my life. I can never repay you. You've been my savior today, Desmond. Thank you, thank you."

Desmond, his smile warm and genuine replied, "The pleasure is all mine, Emily. I'm just glad I could be of help."

"Desmond, I should let you rest," Emily said, her gaze turning to her blood - stained attire. "I'm going to change out of these clothes."

"Okay," he responded, his words soft and understanding.

But as Emily turned to leave, Desmond reached out, gently grasping her wrist. Emily turned back, a question dancing in her eyes.

"What is it?" She asked.

Desmond's gaze was gentle yet firm. "Your hands are bruised. You shouldn't ignore that." His concern was evident, his voice tender.

Emily's words were dismissive, her attempt to brush off her own pain evident. "It's nothing to worry about. You should focus on your own injuries."

But Desmond, a sense of protectiveness rising within him, refused to heed her words. With a tender yet firm grip, he pulled Emily towards him, seating her by his side. Reaching for the cotton wool and spirit, he gently tended to her wounds, cleaning and dressing them with a practiced hand.

"There, all better," he murmured.

Emily cocked her head, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Well, look at you, Mr. Caretaker, treating my bruises while your injury is much more severe. You're really something, you know that?"

Desmond's grin was self - deprecating, "You're welcome."

Emily's laughter rang out as she stood up. "Well, thanks for being such a gentleman, Mr. Handsome Nice." With that, she departed, her footsteps echoing in the silence as Desmond watched her leave.

Desmond, lost in thought, shook his head when the shrill ring of his phone cut through he silence. Glancing at the caller ID, he picked up.

"How's everything going?" The voice on the other end inquired.

The accusatory tone of Desmond's voice carried a heavy weight as he spat out. "You're responsible for this mess, Robert Rawlings. You got me into this and I'm not forgetting it."