It cut through the dim stillness like a knife-low, rough, oozing familiarity.
"Finally awake," it said.
No one else called me by my name like that, not since I'd been dragged into this mess. My shoulders sagged with a mix of relief and weariness. For the first time since I'd been thrown into this nightmare, I wasn't alone. Not that I had any reason to trust Frank Xia—not after the things I'd seen him do.
"You didn't die," I said, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
He crouched in front of me, his cold, calculating eyes scanning me for injuries. "Mmm. Disappointed?"
I shook my head, unsure if I wanted to laugh or cry. Then it hit me like a freight train: if Frank wasn't dead, then the gunshots. they had been his doing.
I stared at him, my chest tightening. "You killed them," I said, the words barely making it past my lips.
He didn't even flinch. "Yes."
