Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 236

Hearing this, Michael fell silent for a moment, his fingers tightening slightly. "Is that so? If not Vesperia, where would Letty want to go to school?"

"Michael, why are you suddenly concerned about this?"

Scarlett finally sensed something was off and asked suspiciously.

Michael's breath caught. He let out a soft laugh to ease the tension. "I was just thinking about helping you out. Don't let my current state fool you—the family business is back on its feet. Sending you abroad for school would be a piece of cake."

These words made Scarlett's heart ache, but remembering Libbie's warning, she could only suppress her feelings, her voice strained and dry. "Don't talk like that, Michael."

"I'm not wallowing in self-pity." Michael's tone was calm, clearly showing no emotional fluctuation, though his hand on the armrest tightened slightly, his forearm trembling with obvious tension.

Fortunately, no one else was around.

No one noticed his emotional turbulence.

He slowly rubbed his fingers together, speaking lightly and slowly. "Scar-Bear, if you decide on a school for studying abroad, remember to share it with me."

Scarlett naturally agreed, feeling guilty again. She had never given Michael anything, yet he was always thinking of her.

After hanging up, Michael let out a soft sigh.

The hand holding his phone dropped, while his other hand rose to massage his temples, followed by another sigh.

His phone screen lit up.

Michael lifted his hand to glance at it—a message from an unregistered string of random characters.

[How did it go? Which school is she going to for her studies abroad?]

Michael remained silent, picked up his phone, glanced at it once, then flipped it face down on the table beside him and wheeled toward the door.

"Ada."

He called out.

Soon, a middle-aged woman emerged from around the corner.

"Mr. Seymour, what can I do for you?"

She wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, her tone gentle yet tinged with fear.

"Go tell Sebi I want to see him."

Darkness had already fallen.

Typically at this hour, Sebastian wouldn't easily receive visitors.

However, ten minutes later, Michael still set out.

When he arrived at No. 1 Skylake Road, the villa was brightly lit, and a butler stood waiting at the entrance.

"Mr. Seymour."

The man smiled and nodded upon seeing him.

Michael nodded back. "Thank you for the trouble, Ray."

Ray rarely appeared at No. 1 Skylake Road. He usually stayed at Westcourt Garden, the house where Sebastian had spent the longest time after coming of age.

No. 1 Skylake Road was a place Sebastian had only officially moved into a few months ago.

Before that, No. 1 Skylake Road had basically remained vacant.

Now, with Ray being brought here, it meant Sebastian's permanent address would completely change.

Though No. 1 Skylake Road had butlers before, due to Sebastian's personality, those temporarily hired staff typically wouldn't stay overnight. They were almost only present during the day, automatically leaving when night fell.

Ray wheeled Michael up to the second-floor guest tea room via elevator.

Sebastian's hair was down, the silky strands falling softly, making him appear much gentler.

But Sebastian's gaze held no tenderness—only indifference, as if nothing in the world could move him.

"What made you suddenly want to see me?"

Sebastian brewed tea—clear tea with a rather bland flavor.

Michael took a sip and placed his phone on the table.

Sebastian across from him merely glanced at it before looking away. "What's wrong?"

"Take a look. No password."

As Michael spoke, an inexplicable tightness blocked his chest.

Though unclear what it was, Sebastian keenly sensed something. He picked up the phone, and as soon as he did, the screen lit up, clearly displaying the open message from that unregistered string of characters.

His eyebrow arched as he slowly scrolled up. With each swipe, his eyes grew deeper, until finally, the gaze he fixed on Michael was tinged with coldness.

"You said she was your sister."

He set down the phone, his tone cold, his fingertip pressing against the screen until it turned pale.

"Yes, which is why I brought it to you." Michael's tone was flat, revealing no hint of joy.

But Sebastian wouldn't accept this. He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes full of wariness. "Yet you revealed her identity to them, Michael Seymour. You're pushing her toward a dead end."

This was the first time Sebastian had called Michael by his full name, and the first time his chest felt like it was stuffed with fire that kept stirring his heartstrings, the rising vapors making his chest feel stuffy in an instant.

Michael fell silent for a moment, lowering his head and struggling to explain. "They can't touch her. She's safe under your protection..."

"That's not a reason for you to seek them out." Sebastian coldly interrupted. "Don't forget—your grandfather, your father, and your mother all died at whose hands."

Michael took a deep breath. "It's precisely because of that that I..."

He couldn't finish the sentence.

Even he didn't understand what was happening to him. Why, after learning about Scarlett's background, had he gone to great lengths to find that person behind the scenes, wanting to make a deal with the demon who had killed his father, mother, and relatives?

"Maybe this way, this whole charade will finally end."

He kept his head down, murmuring to himself.

For that inheritance, for the friendship and justice his father's generation had believed in.

He had lost his family and become disabled.

Yet Scarlett was protected so well by them, growing up safely, and could even marry and have children in the end?

Feelings of resentment and injustice gradually took over Michael's heart.

He knew he was sick and understood these thoughts were wrong.

As Scarlett's older brother, he loved and protected her like his own family.

She had been so young then, and she too had lost her parents and relatives... She hadn't done anything wrong... What was wrong was her very existence...

This thought grew stronger and stronger, so intense that Michael couldn't sleep night after night.

"I know I was wrong." Michael closed his eyes, his emotions still within controllable limits, but when he suddenly opened them, they were filled with bloodshot veins. "I think I'm sick. How could such thoughts exist in my mind?"

His voice was soft, trembling.

Sebastian watched, and the fury that had filled him was instantly extinguished by the moisture in those eyes.

"Sebi, I can recognize it!" His voice gradually grew louder. "I hear her voice, I know she's innocent, I love her like I love my family."

"But I can't control wanting to hate her!"

He gritted his teeth, his eyes becoming even more bloodshot.

Even Sebastian could only swallow hard to ease his emotions upon seeing Michael in this state.

"Mike..."

"Help me, Sebi." Michael closed his eyes again, lowering his head, his voice desolate. "Send me for treatment. I think I'm sick. I can't hurt her."

Sebastian said nothing and made no movement.

He understood that Michael was surrendering his own weakness.

The man was indeed sick.

After a long while, sound finally returned to the tea room.

"I'll send you for treatment."