Chapter 426 - 423: Nora Ainsworth’s Wisdom
It hit Ethan Ellsworth like a ton of bricks. He came to his senses and turned to look at Dorothy, only to realize the little one’s eyes were still closed. She had been dreaming.
Dorothy, who had sat up, suddenly flopped back down. Chloe Marshall was amused by the scene.
Ethan Ellsworth lay down on his other side, exasperated. "How could she come up with a line like that?"
Chloe Marshall laughed. "She’s been watching historical court dramas lately. It’s like she’s possessed by a Concubine."
Ethan Ellsworth reached out and turned off the lamp. "Honey, let’s get some sleep. The three of us are leaving for our honeymoon tomorrow morning."
Chloe Marshall murmured in agreement and drifted into a deep sleep.
After a good night’s sleep and breakfast, the family of three grabbed their luggage and headed to the airport.
After dropping her children off, Nora Ainsworth felt a wave of anxiety wash over her.
Just as her car pulled up to the gate, her phone began to ring insistently.
Most people couldn’t get through to her number because it was whitelisted. Only a few trusted individuals and the kindergarten director were on the list.
She glanced down and saw that, sure enough, it was a call from the director.
"Hello?"
"..."
The smile vanished from Nora Ainsworth’s face. Her phone fell to the ground, and she began to tremble. Hurriedly, she pushed open the main gate. "Captain!"
The captain jogged over. Seeing her unsteadiness, he asked with concern, "Young Madam, what happened?"
"Get a team together. Follow me to the children’s kindergarten. Something has happened."
She turned, dialing Quentin Grant’s number as she rushed out.
At that moment, Quentin Grant had just arrived at the meeting, files in hand. Everyone else was already present. His phone was always set to vibrate, and his family knew not to call him during work hours.
But this time, it wouldn’t stop vibrating. He set down his files. "Excuse me for a moment."
Stepping aside with his phone, he asked in a low voice, "Nora, what’s wrong?"
"Quentin, something’s happened at the children’s kindergarten. A teacher was shot dead on site, and the director is severely wounded, but she still managed to call me."
Fury burned through Quentin Grant, but he forced himself to soothe her. "I’m on my way now. It’s going to be okay, Nora. Don’t cry."
He threw open the door and sprinted out.
He left the board members in the conference room exchanging bewildered glances.
By the time Nora Ainsworth arrived at the kindergarten with her men, the police had already cordoned off the area.
Six teachers were dead, with no survivors. The director, having discovered the scene later, had suffered several stab wounds but was not in life-threatening condition. All sixty-four children had been taken.
The motive was still unknown.
Media outlets were scrambling to report the story, all asking the same question: who could be so cruel as to attack a kindergarten?
Nora Ainsworth’s heart leaped into her throat as she stared at the fresh bloodstains on the ground. Everything had been fine when she dropped the children off. Just ten-odd minutes had passed before this disaster struck. ’The attackers must have been numerous,’ she thought. ’A small group couldn’t have pulled this off.’
The police formed a special task force and began reviewing the surveillance footage, but they found nothing suspicious. Not a single suspect was visible.
After canvassing the area, they discovered that every surrounding road was monitored by cameras.
The police ventured a bold theory: there might be an underground tunnel nearby.
By the time Quentin Grant arrived, a large crowd of onlookers had gathered.
He immediately pulled Nora Ainsworth into a hug. "They’ll be okay. I’ve already sent my people to track them down."
Nora Ainsworth felt completely helpless. "Quentin, our premonition from the other day was right. Someone is coming after us, and we have no idea who it is."
"If they’re targeting us, they won’t harm the children yet. And they will definitely contact us."
Just as he finished speaking, Nora Ainsworth’s phone chimed. DING.
She hurriedly looked at her screen. The message read, "Nora Ainsworth, come to Grestin. You must come alone. If we spot Quentin Grant or anyone else with you, you can go see your son in the afterlife."
"Just as you predicted." Nora Ainsworth’s panic slowly subsided into a steely calm. "Quentin, let’s go home."
Quentin Grant’s heart twisted in agony.
In the end, he nodded.
The moment they arrived home, Nora Ainsworth went upstairs to their bedroom. From the wardrobe, she retrieved a whip she hadn’t used in ages and fastened it to her waist. She also armed herself with three guns, two hundred rounds of ammunition, and two daggers.
Quentin Grant stood there, watching her.
"I can’t possibly let you go alone. I know how dangerous it is."
Nora Ainsworth, now much calmer, looked at him. "And I can’t just let our children wait to be killed. I’ve thought this through. I’m not going on a suicide mission."
Quentin Grant reined in his emotions, forcing himself to think clearly. "They can’t possibly have left Fravia’s borders yet. They’re just trying to divert our attention. They must still be somewhere near the kindergarten."
Nora Ainsworth nodded. "I know. The police are investigating the scene, which will stop the suspects from making a quick getaway. So I’m not actually going to Grestin right now. Quentin, the number that sent the text can be spoofed, but some of the transmission data can’t be faked. The first thing we need to do is trace the message’s point of origin."
He took her hand. "Come with me."
They hurried to a door with a sign that read, "ENTRY STRICTLY FORBIDDEN."
"As long as you call the number and they answer, we’ll be able to pinpoint their location."
Nora Ainsworth pulled out her phone and quickly composed a new text message to them. It read: "How do we know this isn’t a fake? At the very least, let me hear my son’s voice first."
Then she called. It went through.
A vicious man’s voice came through the phone, apparently shouting at the children. "Give your mommy a shout, so she can come and ’save’ you two!"
It was Dylan Grant’s voice. He said only one thing: "Mommy, Spring River, Flower Moon Night, ninety degrees north latitude. All is well."
Most people wouldn’t have understood what he meant, including Quentin Grant.
"What does Dylan mean?"
Nora Ainsworth mulled it over. "’Spring’ is the first of the four seasons, so it means ’number one.’ ’Spring River’ means a place with a world-renowned, number one river. ’Flower Moon’... isn’t he talking about the name of a capital city? A capital famous for its flowers..."
Quentin Grant answered at once, "Draconia!"
Nora Ainsworth nodded, her tone firm. "Exactly. ’Draconia’ is the name of a flower, and it’s also the capital of Valeria. ’Moon Night’ means they’re still in an underground passage, somewhere dark with little light. Their destination is Valeria. In other words, they are headed for Draconia, the capital of Valeria."
Hearing her explanation, Quentin Grant couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. "He really is my son—so brilliant. But Nora, you’re the truly amazing one. I didn’t catch any of Dylan’s coded message."
"A mother knows her son best. Quentin, send a team secretly to Draconia in Valeria. As for the ’ninety degrees north latitude’ Dylan mentioned, that points to the northwestern part of Draconia. They’re not in immediate danger for now. As for the trap, find a highly capable woman to pose as me and go to Grestin for the rendezvous. Make sure you have a team protecting her covertly—don’t let her go on a suicide mission."