The Day Our Promise Breaks

Chapter 238 He dove headfirst into the bone-biting cold water. As soon as Charles hit the icy depths, his body convulsed in a violent shiver. His exposed skin turned red, stinging under the brutal chill. Yet, the freezing water didn't deter him; it only deepened his guilt and worry for his daughter's necklace.

Charlie had always been frail, and he'd made the reckless decision to let her necklace linger in the lake's icy grip for far too long. "Charlie... don't worry. Daddy's here. I'm taking you home." He plunged beneath the surface, using the dim morning light to aid his search.

After scouring the surface with no luck, he didn't hesitate to dig through the muck below, his fingers searching desperately for any sign of the necklace. Time seemed to drag on. Charles was a strong swimmer, but the thick silt and murky water made it tough going. Yet, he refused to give up and only rose for air when he absolutely had to.

"Mr. Jenkins..." Aiden stood anxiously at the water's edge, clutching Charles' discarded coat. His eyes were glued to Charles, whose lips had turned a dark, purplish hue from the cold. This was something Charles felt he had to do himself. It was his way of trying to make up for what had happened, though he was at a loss for how to truly make things right for Charlie. Sometimes, the hardest part of life is realizing things too late.

While under the water, Charles couldn't afford to dwell on anything else. He had one mission: find Charlie. He hadn't known the significance of the necklace before, but now that he did, there was no way he could leave it in that icy water.

His hands moved systematically through the sludge. Suddenly, something caught his hand-a chain. His heart skipped a beat. He tugged at it, but it

looked at his hand. But it wasn't Charlie. Just a tangled fishing line. The harsh pull had sliced his hand, and blood trickled out. Disappointment washed over him, but only briefly. He let the line slip away and continued his search, ignoring his bleeding hand. His fingers were numb, making

dashed again and again. He didn't know how long

his chest and swam to the surface. "Mr. Jenkins!" Aiden saw Charles head for the shore and rushed to help him out. The

crowd gathered,

commotion, but Charles was

“Mr. Jenkins, you should really get checked out," Aiden urged. Charles had spent all night on his knees and

rasped. His voice was hoarse, and his steps were relentless. Aiden, worried but knowing better than to push, followed closely. In the