Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 801

SK Group seemed to be thriving in recent years; even an average member was able to come up with as much as two hundred million dollars in funds.

It was no surprise that such a lucrative opportunity would attract attention.

As Helen set aside her computer, a sudden realization struck her—Chandler had been here before. She left the room and circled the yard but found no sign of him.

Only Carles stood guard outside.

"Where's Chandler?" Helen asked.

"He just stepped out," Carles replied respectfully. "Should I call him?"

Helen declined, saying, "If he's busy, let him be." She turned back and proceeded to administer acupuncture treatment to Kyle.

Several hours later, Helen was nearly out of needles, her exhaustion palpable as she sat beside Kyle. Despite her efforts, there was still no sign of him awakening.

Reluctantly, she had to give up. She closed the cryogenic chamber and reconnected the oxygen supply. Once she had adjusted the temperature, she finally retired to the adjacent room to rest.

Overcome with exhaustion, Helen quickly drifted into a deep sleep upon lying down on the bed, inadvertently forgetting it belonged to Chandler.

In a semi-conscious state, she became aware of someone gradually approaching. Instinctively cautious, she sensed the footsteps becoming lighter, as if the person was wary of disturbing her.

Feeling a sense of reassurance, she relaxed and sank into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

The next day dawned soon after.

Helen awoke to the sound of her phone ringing.

Recognizing Shawn's personalized ringtone, she snapped awake, sitting up in bed with heightened alertness. "Hello, what's the matter?"

"I've just left the airport, but I think I'm being followed," Shawn's voice remained calm, devoid of any emotion.

"Stay on the line," Helen instructed, swiftly turning on her computer.

A young patrol officer knocked on the rear window, jolting Shawn awake. He pretended to wake up slowly, stretching lazily and rubbing his eyes. With a groggy tone, he asked, "What's going on, officer?"

"We're just having a routine check. Please show me your ID," the officer requested.

"Of course," Shawn replied promptly, reaching for his canvas bag. After a quick search, he turned to the officer apologetically. "I'm sorry, officer, but it seems I've forgotten it."

"You forgot your ID?" The young officer looked at him skeptically. "Do you at least remember your ID number?"

"What's happening here?"

At the other checkpoints, officials had begun verifying information. The delay at this particular checkpoint caught the attention of Larry Whitmore, the overseeing authority.

Larry pushed the young officer aside and leaned closer to the car, scrutinizing Shawn with a calculated gaze.

"Where were you coming from?" Larry asked in an indifferent tone.