Waylon Lewis had been on the phone ever since he got into the car, probably arranging for someone to intercept the people sent by Old Master Williams to chase after them.
Hope Williams looked at Waylon, her expression somewhat worried, "Has he sent someone after me?"
Waylon pulled her into his arms, "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
Hope gave a resigned laugh, her laughter tinged with melancholy, "To encounter such a person, I am indeed quite pitiful."
Waylon looked at her with eyes full of distress, leaned down, and kissed her forehead, "You still have me."
Hope rested her head on Waylon's shoulder and rubbed against it, closing her eyes, obviously still shaken.
"Where are we going now?"
"We can't leave for now, let's rest for a bit."
