Jessica only realized what Amelia was up to after she started the car.
The injured man was pretending to be “Jun” and was casually holding Zoey in his arms.
From outside the car, through the tinted window, the guards couldn’t see clearly who he was.
For a mere village, the security was surprisingly tight—three checkpoints in total.
It had taken Zoey an entire year to pass through all three.
The first two were manageable, but the last one was a problem.
The guard was sharp, his gaze scanning the car intently.
Then, he stretched out a hand, signaling them to stop.
He clearly remembered—when the Morton family had entered, they hadn’t brought this many people.
Seeing this, Zoey’s face turned pale.
But Amelia remained unfazed.
“Stop the car,” she ordered lazily. “And curse him out.”
