Page 67 of The Last Morgan

No sign of anyone.

The four of them stood there Confused. Until It hit them slowly one by one, “Its a distraction "Lucy said. “Rebecca!” Shouted Corey.

Downstairs, the basement door creaked open.

A figure stepped inside — shadowed and hooded.

Their steps were silent.

They walked right up to Rebecca, who was still tied to the chair, sobbing quietly.

She looked up.

Recognition and fear exploded across her face.

"You were about to tell her everything," the figure said coldly.

Before she could plead, before she could explain, the muzzle of a silenced pistol pressed against her forehead.

One soft sound.

Rebecca’s body slumped instantly, blood pooling on the cracked concrete floor.

The figure turned and slipped away, melting into the shadows like smoke.

Moments later, Lucy, Corey, Byron, and Damian stormed back in.

The air smelled wrong.

Lucy froze halfway down the stairs.

She knew — even before she saw.

Rebecca was slumped in the chair, her head lolled at a grotesque angle, blood painting the wall behind her.

Dead.

"FUCK!" Corey roared, slamming his fist against the wall.

Lucy moved closer, her face cold and unreadable.

Byron stepped protectively beside her, his hand hovering near the hilt of his knife.

"Someone was here," Byron said, his voice dark.

"And they silenced her."

Lucy stared at Rebecca’s body.

For a brief moment, she felt... nothing.

No satisfaction.

No victory.

Just a cold, gnawing rage burrowing deeper into her chest.

They had been so close.