In the following days, everything unfolded just as Laila remembered. The stock market suffered a catastrophic sell-off, the airline industry was severely affected after a three-day shutdown, and Americans were no longer as confident in their safety as before.
The only person who seemed to gain an advantage from this situation was probably President Bush. Originally, many people had their doubts about him when he took office, but after this event, his approval ratings soared significantly. Some people in later years believed that this tragedy was orchestrated with American control in mind.
Thanks to Laila's "premonition" and Janet's assertiveness, Quentin had sold all his stocks long before the disaster occurred. At the time, he had thought he'd incurred significant losses, but now, it seemed like a stroke of luck. If it weren't for Laila's identity, Quentin would almost suspect her involvement in the event.
He wasn't the only one shocked; Old Man Oswald was another fortunate individual. The words Laila had spoken to him that night had filled him with unease, whether out of trust for his granddaughter or pure caution. He, too, had relocated most of his investments out of the stock market and other vulnerable areas.
Compared to Laila's actions, his actions were too mild. Fortunately, his losses were significantly reduced, which was a small silver lining. However, the family decided to keep this matter to themselves, refraining from public disclosure.
Investors like them were bound to attract attention with any slight movement. People might question their sudden changes in investments before the disaster. But with a simple explanation like "shifting investment strategies," they could manage such inquiries. No one would suspect their connection to a terrorist organization.
What they didn't know was that their investment relocations had indeed been discreetly investigated. However, no evidence was found, and Oswald hadn't been without some losses. The CIA investigations led to multiple results that could only be described as "coincidences." In the end, the investigation was quietly terminated.
Given the enormous sums involved, not millions but a huge sum of hundreds of millions, they had transferred to safer places right before the disaster, they couldn't overlook them in such a tense time. Thankfully, the Moran Group had a "clean" history and was a model taxpayer. Their investigations remained secretive, as exposing the Moran Group to public scrutiny would lead to a crisis of public opinion, whether or not they were eventually exonerated.
Fortunately, indeed.
During the chaos, movie productions had certainly come to a halt. Films that were currently in theaters had poor attendance, as people were more interested in following the news on TV. In times when they couldn't guarantee their own safety, who had the leisure to go to the cinema to relax?
Under Roy's "supervision," Laila had been granted a carefree holiday. Every day was spent eating and sleeping, with no computer access. However, these days came to an abrupt end just two days before her birthday.
A little after four in the morning, Laila, still in deep sleep, was jolted awake by a phone call. The number calling was one only known to close friends and family, so she kept her phone on 24/7. A call at such an hour was never good news. As she looked out at the still-dark sky, her expression grew serious, and she answered the call from the unidentified number.
"I'm Laila."
"Laila, it's Jia Xiaoming," came the tired voice from the other end of the line.
Laila furrowed her brow, "What's going on?"
She could hear the exhaustion and weariness in his voice as if he hadn't slept in a long time, as though he'd just crawled out from hell. It was the first call she received from him in six months since Pirates of the Caribbean had wrapped. His profession was highly sensitive, so a call at this hour couldn't mean anything good.
"You owe me a favor, and I need your help. You're the only one I can turn to," Jia Xiaoming's voice was laden with regret. "This matter involves the lives of my companions."
Laila fell silent for a moment. "Am I in danger?"
"No, I promise there won't be any issues as long as the arrangements are made correctly. I just need your identity. It's a matter of life and death for my friends."
Laila thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll help you."
She knew she shouldn't have agreed. Could she really trust that there would be no issues? Could she really complete this task without any problems, given the sensitive nature of his work?
"Thank you, Laila! Thank you! Even if you ask me to do makeup for a donkey from a movie, I won't refuse!" Jia Xiaoming expressed his gratitude excitedly. He had prepared many ways to persuade her, but he hadn't expected her to agree so readily. This would save his friends!
"You don't need to do makeup for a donkey," Laila said with a hint of exasperation. "I owe you a favor, and I'll fulfill it. Tell me, what do you need me to do?"
Jia Xiaoming didn't waste time thanking her further; he had this matter at heart. He knew that from now on, whenever Laila needed help, he would risk his life to assist her.
"It's like this. You know about 9/11, right?"
"Do you think there's anyone who doesn't?" Laila replied, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Stop beating around the bush. Just tell me what's going on."
"It's not convenient to discuss it over the phone. Can you open the window?"
Laila hesitated for a moment, then put on a nightgown and walked to the window. There, perched on a branch of a large tree, was a figure shrouded in darkness, with only two eyes visible.
"... " Had she not suspected he might be outside, she felt she wouldn't have been able to identify him in the shadows.
She opened the window and waved to him with a hint of annoyance. "Come on in."
"Thanks." Jia Xiaoming was somewhat embarrassed as he took off his shoes. He didn't want to soil the expensive plush carpet in her girlish and soft room with muddy shoe soles. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt like the area his feet touched would be worth more than his annual salary.
Laila watched him for a moment and then retrieved several sheets of paper from her cabinet, placing them on the floor.
Jia Xiaoming sighed in relief and placed his shoes on the paper.
"Tell me, what's going on?" Laila pointed to a nearby chair, inviting him to sit.