The Hand- an early beginning I found, which is better?

Red fingertips and red blood- falling    drip    drip   onto the carpet, absorbing the splash with the silence of a snowfall. The pinky, striaght, suspended off the edge of the dresser where the rest of the hand lay. Elegance in the curl of the palm, the manicure, the mahogony and white carpet equaled beautiful disaster.
The sunrise slanted in, lit up empty space.

Months before, the hand belonged to a body, that of Elmira Ramirez. Heels echoing down the laboratory hallway, she carried a vial of serum to the incubation room.