First Uncle Sinclair's family of three wailed frantically, but they were held fast and couldn't move an inch. Bystanders who tried to call the police were deftly intercepted by the bodyguards.
When Leah was finally done, she slowly emerged from the house, clutching a stick and Grandma Sinclair's funeral portrait. Her hands were cut by flying shards of glass and dripping with blood, and her face was marked with a couple of small, bloody scratches.
The three Sinclairs watched her draw closer step by step, looking like a demon from hell. They trembled in terror, especially since she was still clutching Grandma Sinclair's funeral portrait.
"Leah!" Mason rushed forward to examine her hand.
Leah threw the stick to the ground, panting heavily. "One million? Heh… You sold Grandma's life for one million. How can you look at her picture every day and not have nightmares?"
"I curse you! You will have nightmares every day—*every single day*! Grandma will never forgive you!"
