Mina was brimming with anger, barely containing herself. She yearned to expose the truth, to reject Dexter's insincerity, and unleash her fury upon him and his daughter. But before she could erupt, Jeremy entered and skillfully diffused the tension.
"Don't upset yourself," Jeremy said, his tone concerned. "Take care of your health. We've worked with Ruben for years. I'm heartbroken by what happened." Turning to the still-indignant bodyguard, he added, "The dead deserve respect, and grieving families deserve understanding. Let's not escalate this. It's natural for her to feel this way."
With Jeremy's mediation, the bodyguard remained silent, collecting the scattered gifts and thick envelope. His movements were reluctant but controlled.
Seeing Mina seemed to have aged ten years in two days, Jeremy sighed. "My condolences," he said heavily. "Ruben is gone, but the truth will come to light. Please take care of yourself."
He placed a small stack of cash—a thousand dollars—on the table. "A small token of my sympathy," he explained. "Ruben and I worked together for many years. I hope you don't mind the amount."
Mina's gaze remained fixed on the bodyguard, her eyes burning with intense hatred. Unaware, Jeremy recalled a message. "Oh, Ms. Felicia asked me to pass along her regards."
Mina froze, the words transporting her back to the Fuller residence's dining room. She had pleaded for guidance; Felicia had calmly advised her to call the police, recover the body, and let authorities investigate.
When Mina questioned why she shouldn't directly accuse Kayla, Felicia's simple question cut deep: Did Mina think Myra and Dexter would ever let Kayla be labeled a murderer?
The answer was obvious. The Fullers would not only prevent Kayla from taking the blame but would utilize every resource to clear her name. Mina's opportunity for justice would vanish before it began.
Taking a deep breath, Mina forced a pale smile and addressed the bodyguard. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone flat but polite. "I took my anger out on you. Please thank Mr. Fuller for the gifts and money. Tell him I appreciate his kindness." The visibly relieved bodyguard nodded. "Alright then. Take care of yourself."
Before leaving the ward, he glanced back at Mina. Her stillness—an eerie calm masking something dangerous—unsettled him. He shook his head, muttering, "I must be imagining things."
After Jeremy left, Mina called. Her voice was steady, almost unnervingly so.
"I did as you said," she reported. "I accepted the gifts and money without raising suspicion. I didn't name the killer, so they won't be on guard."
Felicia checked the time. An hour until nightfall. Unbeknownst to Kayla, Lance's men had captured every move she made—the murder, the disposal of the body. Believing she'd escaped suspicion, Kayla awaited her birthday banquet.
Felicia's voice was calm and deliberate. "I'm sending you a list of reporters. Tell them you're taking them to the crime scene to catch the killer in the act. The first ten reporters get exclusive evidence."
"What evidence?" Mina asked, clutching the phone.
"Footage," Felicia replied, her tone unchanged. "It shows everything—from the murder to the body's disposal."