At this moment, every minute and second felt like a year to Jasmine Yale.
The air in the car was particularly oppressive, making her feel breathless.
Butler Santana held her hand tightly.
Torture, endless torture, like ants crawling across her heart, piercing to the bone.
From time to time, policemen got into the police car to exchange information.
Two policemen stood outside the car, speaking in low voices: "This isn't a trafficking case. After the man pushed the child away, he carried the child into the car, and the license plate wasn't concealed, which suggests he didn't intend to hide anything."
Jasmine heard the commotion outside clearly.
Upon hearing this, Jasmine abruptly sat up, opened the car door, and stuck her head out: "Can I see the surveillance footage? Where did that person go?"
One policeman turned his head: "Ma'am, please wait, we're tracking the route using surveillance footage and the license plate number. We suspect the person is nearby."
