Kim removed her bloody hand, unfazed by the sight. She wiped it on her thigh so that she wouldn't leave red hand prints everywhere. She reached over and poked hard into the towel, trying to communicate that he shouldn't provoke him. She hesitantly glanced at the deranged man, a bit of a softer gaze, edges rounded by fear. Then she looked at the juice suspiciously, trying to determine the plausibility that it was poisoned. 

Even if it was, her helplessness in the situation was clear, and they could kill her at any moment, poison, blade, or any other thing the madman could think of. She picked up the drink, staring at it before hesitantly bringing it to her lips, but smelling it. She'd been poisoned plenty of times before. What's one more hit to her liver?