After Leah and the others returned to San Antonio, they headed straight into a dimly lit room. Frank was still tied to a bench, his hair a tangled mess, his body crusted with dried blood. He looked like he was hanging on by a thread—barely alive after relentless torture.
"The ransom for Richard's release has been paid," Leah said flatly.
"Huh?" Frank's head jerked up at her words. His dull, lifeless eyes flickered with a spark of hope.
"Does that mean… you'll let me go now?"
"Sure," Leah nodded, but there was a cold glint in her eyes. She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen to start recording.
With her other hand, she drew a knife and walked straight toward him.
"W-what are you doing?" Frank stammered, panic rising in his voice. A sick feeling twisted in his gut.
"Sending you off," Leah said matter-of-factly.
Then, without hesitation, she drove the blade into his chest. The knife pierced his heart cleanly.
