Chapter 224

The villagers of Stone Village had always lived in isolation, rarely venturing into town and oblivious to the turmoil of the outside world.

"Is this true?" Mary Stone clutched the hem of her apron, her hands trembling slightly.

Emily Johnson nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mother. Every word."

News spread like wildfire. By dawn the next day, grim tidings arrived—a child had gone missing in neighboring Lopez Village. Panic erupted throughout Stone Village.

"Children must walk home in groups!" bellowed John Stone Sr., slamming his fist on the table. "If I catch any child wandering alone, I'll break their legs myself!"

Richard Lopez arrived under the scorching sun, his eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse. "John, we need help. The child's been missing three days... no trace..."

After a moment's thought, the elder Stone turned to Emily. "What do you think—"

"I'll go," Emily clenched her fists. "But I'll need company."

At noon the next day, Emily stood on Lopez Village's threshing ground. Raising a metal megaphone, her clear voice cut through the sweltering heat:

"First rule: Never accept food from strangers!"

"Second: Shout for help if you see anything suspicious!"

From the sea of villagers, a woman suddenly wailed, "If only I'd known... my baby wouldn't have—"

When the session ended, Richard Lopez pressed a heavy sack of sweet potato noodles into John Stone Sr.'s hands, making the older man grimace under its weight.

"Mommy!" Two small figures came barreling toward Emily like cannonballs.

Mary lifted the pot lid, releasing steam fragrant with sweet potatoes. "Eat first. I'll get you the onion seeds later."

Meanwhile, chaos erupted in the Bright household.

"Mother! You can't favor them like this!" Nancy Bright shrieked. "That worthless niece of ours is nothing compared to our Noah—he'll carry on the family name!"

The elderly woman collapsed on the doorstep, tears streaming down her weathered face. "Such wickedness... she's your own flesh and blood..."

As night deepened, lanterns flickered in both villages like fireflies. No one noticed the pair of cold, calculating eyes watching from the shadowed cornfields.