The atmosphere in the warm and bright drawing-room of the Kelly family was silent and cold.
The young people were still staring intently at the satellite surveillance screens, while the elders sat silently on the sofa, frowning, their expressions melancholy.
This night, until now, everyone had stayed up with bloodshot eyes.
Emotions had soared to heaven and fallen to earth, from earth to heaven again, only to fall once more, on the brink of collapse from torture.
These families present had already placed their bets on the Hei family. Besides the power displayed by the bandit army, and the awe of Hastings, there was an instinctual resistance to the ambition, radicalism, and cold-bloodedness manifested by Leefer and that group.
Everyone was aware of Francis's death. And before Francis, many roadblocks had fallen in pools of blood, many schemes silently maneuvered through the night.
That group was definitely not as righteous, strong, and selfless as their leader appeared.
