The Dinner Party

You quietly open up the drawer in front of you, trying as hard as you can to not disturb the silence. Your fingers enclose on the brass handle of the sharp silver knife laying on a bed of soft cloth towels. You know what you need to do next. As you stand above your victim laying helplessly on the floor you realize the true look of sadness on her face. She wasn't fighting back, she wasn't the thief. What are you going to do next?