?Chapter 1359:


    “Emerson suspected the Lawson family, who was among the institute’s backers, possibly held backup copies of the data. After your mother fled, he redirected his efforts toward them…”


    Obsession… toward them. The chairman of Lawson Group and his wife paid the ultimate price—hounded until death. Silence smothered the room.


    Even the wind that stirred the curtains seemed unable to lift the crushing stillness.


    Noah gently reached for Sadie’s hand, now icy and limp in herp.


    She lookedposed, unreadable even—but beneath the surface, a storm howled, raw and relentless.


    The man’s ount flowed seamlessly—too seamlessly. It painted Emerson as the sole viin, carefully exonerating everyone else. But Brenda had been no fool. She was sharp, discerning, always two steps ahead.


    If she had seen through Emerson’s carefully crafted mask, how could she have missed the deeper currents swirling beneath the surface? And if these people were truly patriots—defenders of their country and its people—then why hadn’t Brenda chosen to seek their help back then?


    Why entrust her only child to her mother rather than leave the so-called *”crucial” data in these people’s care?


    That choice alone revealed everything.


    Sadie didn’t believe a word of it.


    Her mother hadn’t trusted them back then—and neither did she now.


    She lifted her head slowly, her gaze locking with the leader’s probing eyes.


    “So that’s how it is,” she murmured, her tone unreadable, smooth as ss.


    She looked down at her hand resting in Noah’s—findingfort in his warmth.


    “I can give you the data,” she said atst.


    At her deration, a flicker of excitement ignited in the room—eyes sharpened, postures subtly leaned forward.


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    “But…” Sadie paused, her voice gaining an icy precision as she raised her gaze once more, and continued, “Not immediately. My mother designed an borate, multyered verification system to protect the data. It can only be essed at a very specific time—and that time is seven days from now.”


    Her tone was steady, authoritative—leaving no space for negotiation. The leader’s expression darkened with thought, his brow knitting as he tried to gauge her sincerity.


    Seven days. Not long enough to raise rm. Not short enough to be impulsive.


    Around him, the higher-ups exchanged brief, pointed nces—an entire conversation spoken without words. They had hunted this trail for so many years.


    What was another week, especially with the girl already in hand?


    “Very well. Seven days it is.”


    The leader gave a final nod, sealing the arrangement with an air of authority.


    “For the next seven days, you’ll stay here with Mr. Wall—for your safety,” he said. “We’ll assign a detail to protect you both.”


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