“I’ll stay if you like, or be just next door if you need me.” “I’m all right with just the doctor,” Melanie said. Anya closed the sliding door, locked it and placed a sheet of white paper on the floor. She opened a pack of size-five latex gloves and stretched them over her fingers. “I’ll need you to gently take off your clothes over the paper. It’s the best chance of collecting dirt, fibers, hairs and anything else he transferred to you in the attack.” Melanie complied. Anya helped her into a white hospital gown, observing more injuries as she tied up the back. She then folded the underwear and placed it inside a brown paper bag. “We’ll get you a drink in a minute, but first I need you to spit into a container.” Melanie tried her best to muster some saliva. Anya pipetted out the contents into another screw-top vial. “I’m going to give you a tiny amount of water. I want you to swish it around your mouth and spit again.” This time, the result yielded more.
