Chapter 239 You Will Regret This
“Did you find him?”
Ernest’s gaze hardened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
His eyes flickered toward Linda, hesitation gripping him like a vice. He parted his lips slightly, as if on the verge of speaking, but in the end, he turned away in silence.
Linda’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded in disbelief. “Ernest! Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
At the sharpness of her tone, Ernest faltered. His shoulders stiffened before he slowly turned back, his expression a tangled mess of conflict and regret.
“Ernest!”
Linda lunged forward, fingers digging into his arm, her grip tight, desperate. Her swollen, tear–rimmed eyes bore into his as she shook her head, her voice low but seething. “You’re not leaving. Not like this.”
“Linda…”
His brow creased, his eyes dark with something unspoken. He held her gaze for a long, aching moment before
exhaling deeply.
Gently, deliberately, he pried her fingers from his arm. “We’ll talk when I return.”
The words hit her like a blow. Linda staggered back, her breath shuddering
Ernest spared her one last glance before turning away.
“Ernest! Ernest!”
Her voice cracked, desperation spilling into the empty space between them.
Nyla came rushing over, her brows knitted in confusion. She had caught fragments of the exchange, but none
of it made sense.
“Linda, what’s happening? What is all this?*
“Nyla
Linda spun toward her, her hands gripping Nyla’s arm like a lifeline, tears pooling in her eyes. “I need to know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “I need to know what he’s been hiding from me.”
In the car
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“Um… Mr. Flynn?” Quentin’s sharp eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “Miss Harris is following us.”
Ernest remained unfazed, his expression unreadable. His voice, cool and unwavering, cut through the silence.
“Let her.”
Quentin gave a curt nod. “Understood.”
Their destination was already set–an orphanage.
The call had come unexpectedly. The orphanage director had informed them that the child had returned.
The boy was bright–eyed and healthy, his face carrying the kind of charm that made adoption seem inevitable.
Yet, fate had been unkind.
him with open arms–only to return him six
him in, promising stability. But a year later, their marriage crumbled. The child, caught
of their broken vows,
Quentin had found him.
what love truly meant, the boy’s once–lively spirit had faded into guarded silence. A heart too young to bear such burdens had
to take him in, the director hesitated, her eyes heavy with unspoken
concern.
please consider this carefully. Raising a child is an act
said.
Ernest couldn’t commit, he shouldn’t take the boy at all.
in
he had said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “From this day
money could offer.
despite it all, the child had
the car rolled to a stop, Ernest’s sharp eyes
outside
you, Mr. Flynn, she
“You too.”
steady. But as his eyes
composed, held an unfamiliar edge
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offered a reassuring nod. “He’s inside, eating”
modest room, the three–year–old sat on a wooden step stool, his small
of cookies.
orphanage had been long and difficult. Running away from Maple Bay, searching for a place that felt safe–it was too much for a child
and stained with dust,
each bite, he devoured the cookies as if he
His throat felt dry, and for the first
his eyes.
afraid that one wrong move might scare the boy
“Locke,” he whispered.
cheeks were puffed up with food. The moment he heard his name, his little
“Locke…”
a hand, meaning to ruffle the boy’s hair, to
legs carrying him straight to
to
stroking Locke’s back in a soothing
sweetheart? It’s Mr. Flynn. He adopted you, remember? You’re part
“No!”
his big, teary eyes filled
good boy!
“But, Locke…”
a big house, eat all the good food
voice cracked, his tiny frame trembling as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “I don’t want to!” Nothing
She turned toward Ernest, searching his face for any sign of frustration or impatience. “Mr. Flynn, this child has been through too much. Please… don’t
right away. His face betrayed no anger, no irritation–just quiet understanding. Leaning slightly on his cane, he took
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he extended his hand toward Locke.
time, steady
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