Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 250

Shawn stirred the soup in front of him, his tone calm and gentle. "All these years, when have you ever asked about Dad's whereabouts?"

"If I really started asking, I'd probably make myself sick from all the questioning." Chris rolled his eyes. "In all these years, when has he ever stayed home for more than twelve hours?"

Shawn fell silent for a moment, still circling around that question. "So what are you looking for him for this time?"

Chris still refused to reveal his specific purpose, only responding with, "Something came up."

Seeing that he really didn't want to talk about it, Shawn had to give up. He'd already eaten at the cafeteria in the afternoon, so after just finishing a bowl of soup, he wiped his mouth and stood up. "Alright then, Angus, let Chris know when Dad gets back."

The butler nodded, but Chris waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine, I'll just wait for him here."

Hearing this, Shawn paused mid-step as he headed upstairs, glancing back at him. But he didn't try to stop him—just looked once before continuing up the stairs.

This wait lasted until the next morning.

Seven-oh-three AM.

Some commotion came from the side door.

Chris bolted upright from the couch, the cold coffee he'd downed while dozing by the fireplace still churning acidly in his stomach. He rubbed his dry eyes and looked toward the side door.

The motion-sensor lights in the entryway lit up one by one as a figure in a waterproof windbreaker, covered in morning dew, pushed through the door—Chris's father, Dominic.

"You're awake?" Dominic leaned his fishing rod against the corner and pulled off his hat, revealing salt-and-pepper hair still dotted with crystalline water droplets. "My float had just started moving when Angus called and dragged me back, saying you were planted in this living room like a rock."

Chris was still a bit groggy. Though he'd been in the living room the whole time, he had managed to get some sleep. Listening to his father's complaints, he frowned and squinted as he leaned back. "Whatever. You never catch anything anyway. That float was probably just snagged on some weeds."

As an angler, Dominic wasn't pleased to hear this. His face darkened, and he pulled off his jacket with more force. "Enough. Tell me what this is about."

Chris didn't move. He hadn't figured out how to bring it up yet.

Dominic poured himself a cup of coffee—black, no sugar. It was so bitter it made him wince, but he was addicted. He sat across from Chris with his cup. "Well? Are you going to talk or not?"

The other man was pressing him, but Chris remained unhurried. He pulled out his phone and showed a screenshot of the news he'd found last night. "Did he really commit suicide?"

The screenshot showed the news article from years ago reporting Clinton's suicide.

After Dominic saw it clearly, his already furrowed brow deepened further, his eyes suddenly darkening. He set down his coffee cup and drummed his fingers on the table. "What's got you suddenly curious about this?"

Chris opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to explain the reason, but then changed course mid-sentence. "I just happened to see it, and I remember you used to drink heavily because of this incident."

He stopped there, his expression awkward as he cut himself off. But even without finishing, the implication came through clearly—after all, Dominic's face instantly grew even more unpleasant.

"Don't look into this." Dominic refused to reveal more, repeating only this one phrase.

But Chris's curiosity was piqued. This was no longer about his promise to a friend—it was purely his own inner drive. What could have happened to make Dominic so deeply secretive about it?

"I'm not investigating, just curious."

He didn't reveal his true thoughts, only smiled as he expressed his curiosity.

Dominic was silent for a long while before finally letting out a heavy sigh. "He really didn't commit suicide."

Just that one sentence made Chris's eyes widen. He recalled all the information he'd seen in the news. "But didn't they say the police had investigated and confirmed it was suicide?"

Hearing this, Dominic just snorted with derision. The aroma of coffee filled his nostrils, but it still couldn't dispel the gloom in his heart. "Would a man who'd just talked about wanting to live a good life with his wife and child go kill himself?"

His words dripped with sarcasm, and he snorted again before adding another line.

"Might as well say I should be the one committing suicide, having lost my wife and all."

Chris's heart thundered. "He was married?"

The news hadn't mentioned this at all. Not only was it absent from the news, even online entries had no indication that he'd been married with children.

"Not married." Dominic clearly knew many inside details. After Chris's question, he immediately shook his head in denial. The steam rising from his coffee blurred his vision, and his thoughts seemed to drift back to years ago.

"That woman had a special status. He never brought her out to meet us." Dominic spoke while looking down at the coffee in his cup. "When we heard the child was born, we even sent congratulatory gifts."

Chris grew more excited as he listened, thinking of what Scarlett had told him. The next second, he wanted to reveal her true identity.

However, Dominic's next words made him immediately swallow back what he'd been about to say.

"No one expected that the birth of that child would make those people target them. A life of hiding and running became his norm, and all of this was simply because of the child's mother's identity..."

Dominic's eyes held a cold gleam. "If you ask me, that kind of status only brings endless disaster to those around you. Might as well be dead."

Chris swallowed his words back down. He mumbled agreement, shocked inside but showing no change on his face.

"What about his wife then?" Chris asked.

Dominic gave him a sideways glance and took a sip of coffee. "Who knows? After Clinton died, she vanished without a trace. Probably found somewhere to hide."

Hearing this, Chris couldn't help but think of Scarlett's mother. Actually, there were very few reports and materials about her, but the time of her death was still on record.

She died two years after Clinton's death, when Scarlett was four, reportedly from a serious illness.

But now, combined with the identity Dominic had mentioned, her death might also have quite a story behind it.

Chris fell into deep thought.

Seeing this, Dominic couldn't help but feel an ominous premonition rising in his heart. "This matter ends here. You can't investigate further, and I won't give you any contacts."

"When was that child born?" Chris's tone was flat, completely ignoring Dominic's words.

Dominic choked, thoroughly irritated by his youngest son. "I forgot! It was so many years ago—how would I remember that?"

Since he wouldn't say, Chris could only silently calculate. After careful consideration, he was startled to realize that the child's age would indeed match Scarlett's.

From this perspective, Scarlett really was Clinton's child.

Having gotten what he wanted to know, Chris immediately stood up and headed upstairs.

Seeing him leave without looking back, Dominic grew even angrier. "Let me tell you something! This matter ends here! If you keep investigating, I'll freeze your cards!"

Just then, Shawn came downstairs. His gaze lingered on Chris for a moment as Chris politely greeted him, then continued upstairs.