Her whip snapped against his back. “Did you really think I would’ve let you leave with my most prized possession?”
The old man fell on all fours. “Not willingly. The poison—,” he said as he reached for the necklace.
Her whip lashed out, grabbing it before the old man could take it.
She walked closer, “You mean this.“ She held a half-filled vial.
“How?” he said.
“A girl has her ways,” she smiled.
The old man followed her gaze, where a young man bled on the floor.
“Now,” she said as she raised her whip, “Say bye-bye.”