Huang Ling leaned back slightly, folding the envelope with deliberate precision before slipping it into a zipper bag and tucking it securely into the inner pocket of his overcoat. His movements were methodical, unhurried—far too composed for what was about to unfold.
Huang Biu's pulse hammered in her ears. Her gaze flickered to the bedroom door, calculating the distance. He was still a few paces away. Now or never.
With a sharp inhale, she lunged. Her fingers closed around the doorknob, twisting frantically. It didn't budge. A cold wave of dread crashed over her. No, no, no! She yanked harder, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Beads of sweat broke out along her hairline as she threw her weight against the door, desperation clawing at her chest.
It was locked. From the outside.
Panic twisted in her gut, an icy fist gripping her throat.
"Sit. Down."
