Chapter 209 Daddy, Do You Like Mommy?
Charles patiently repeated himself.
"After the news came out last night, Mommy received a distress call from Hunter. He's in Torrance, in the States. She was afraid something might happen to him, so she bought tickets for the 6 AM flight to Los Angeles. She should be on the plane now."
Martin's face darkened, and he squinted his eyes, irked, "Why did Hunter call her? What can she do by herself? Besides, with the Miller family in such chaos, why would an outsider go there? Isn't this akin to courting death? How could you agree to let her go?"
Charles sighed deeply, "Of course I know what you’re talking about. You should also understand Mommy's feelings. Hunter is in a pitiful state and she’s his only friend. Isn't the role of a friend to support one another in times of crisis? If she abandoned him now, could she still call herself his friend? Besides, you wouldn't admire such a Mommy, would you?"
His words left Martin speechless. Seeing him fall silent, Charles consoled, "Don't worry! Mommy's an adult; she knows what to do, so there's no need for you to be concerned."
He had, of course, made extensive preparations for her, and would track her situation closely and continuously. Nothing would go wrong. Of course, Charles didn't tell Martin that part. After all, he couldn't reveal his identity.
After a moment of silence, Martin replied, "I understand! Be good, and when you have time off, go to the hospital and spend some time with Randy, he misses you and Fannie."
Detecting something amiss, Charles couldn't help but ask, "Daddy, are you planning to go to the States to find Mommy?"
Martin decisively said, "Yes! The Miller family's roots are entwined and their influence is massive. If Hunter is indeed falling from power now, going there would be like walking into death's jaws. I can't allow her to come to harm."
Charles paused, then suddenly asked, "Dad, do you like Mommy?"
"I've always liked her." Martin's reply was crisp and without hesitation.
Charles fell silent. After a long while, he finally asked softly, "If you've always liked her, then why did you hurt her five years ago?"
Martin had no answer. The time following the divorce, there hadn't been a day when he hadn't regretted his foolish actions. But what good was regret? Time couldn't be reversed, and water spilled could not be gathered back.
Charles then said, "Dad, if you truly like Mommy, then you should bring her back. You're my father, and I'm on your side."
Martin was deeply moved, he had always thought Charles blamed him. He never expected his son's support. A son is always a son, blood is thicker than water after all.
Unfortunately, before he could savor the moment, Charles doused him with cold reality. "You hurt Mommy before, and to be honest, I don't want you two back together. I think my Mommy deserves a better man. I'll support her marrying anyone she likes."
Martin felt chilled to the core, his heart turned cold. The warm feeling he had felt, vanished without a trace. As he hung his head low, Charles brought a glimmer of hope.
"But I can tell, Mommy still likes you, she just can't get over what happened five years ago. Since you both like each other, as your son, I naturally support your remarriage." It was like Martin saw a beam of light in the darkness, lighting up his whole being.
"Mommy likes me? Really?" His voice wavered slightly, excited like a child.
"She's my Mommy, I understand her, I can see she still likes you. But, if you dare hurt her again, I won't be gentle with you."
Charles spoke with the maturity, and dignity, not befitting his little more than four years, his words carrying an authority that was wholly natural.
Martin solemnly promised, "Don't worry, this time I will cherish her properly, I absolutely won't hurt her."
"I'll believe you for now!" Charles's tone finally eased, "I'll send you a link later, open it and download a location-tracking app system. It will lead you to Mommy."
Martin asked, puzzled, "A location-tracking app system? What's the name?"
"Just download it, why are you asking so many questions." With that, Charles hung up the phone.
In a short while, the link was sent over. Opening the link, Martin's confusion deepened. It was a location-tracking app that he didn't recognize at all. The Langley Group's main business is the research and development of mobile phone and computer chips, but they're also involved in the internet.
Charles was aware of the location-based apps that had high download volumes on the web.
But this app was one he had never heard of before. It seemed pre-programmed, and upon opening it, three dots appeared on the interface: one red, one blue, one yellow.
Soon after, a message from Charles came through.
"The blue dot is where a call was made to Mommy, the yellow dot is Mommy's location. Follow the GPS, and you'll surely find her."
Martin couldn't help but ask, "Where did you get this?"
"Don't ask questions now, just find Mommy first!"
Full of queries but turning to the task at hand, Martin quickly had Alan contact the airline to request a flight path, and just one hour later, their private plane was on its way to Los Angeles, USA.
...
Twelve hours later, Patricia's plane landed in Los Angeles. With the USA and their homeland on opposite time zones, it was just past six in the morning in Los Angeles.
Exhausted as she was, Patricia didn't rest. She shouldered her backpack, hailed a taxi at the airport, and headed straight for Torrance. In the taxi, she turned on her phone, opened an app. The app showed a red dot and a blue dot – the red unmovable, the blue inching closer to the red.
This location-based app was developed by Charles, and specifically installed for her before she left; the red dot pinpointed where Hunter had called her from, and the blue dot represented her current location.
As the blue dot closed in on the red, it symbolized her drawing nearer to Hunter. Five hours later, she reached her destination. Patricia opened the car door and stepped out, facing a grove of trees so dense no camera could capture it.
Thinking there might be a mistake, she glanced at the location app. The red dot blinked repeatedly, indicating she was near the blue marker.
The driver, a kind-hearted gentleman, seeing her hesitate in front of the woods, asked with concern, "Miss, are you sure you want to go in there? What if there are bad people? Do you need me to go with you?"
"No need, thank you, sir! I'm heading in," Patricia replied in fluent English, then shouldered her backpack and walked into the grove.
The location app became her compass, sounding an alarm whenever she slightly diverged from the trail, prompting her to correct course according to its directions. Fortunately, the grove wasn't vast. It was winter, and the ground was not overrun with thick weeds.
Beyond the grove lay an underdeveloped mountain village. Surrounded by sparsely populated mountains, each house stood a distance apart, backed by mountains engulfed in a layer of white mist. It seemed like a scene from a fairy tale, breathtakingly beautiful.
Patricia couldn't believe she was seeing such retro houses that appeared as if they were lifted straight out of ancient paintings. Using the location-tracking app in hand, Patricia found herself in front of an old house.
"Knock, knock, knock." She tapped gently on the door.
No one answered. She knocked three more times. Still no response. Just as she thought the house must be empty, the door creaked open to reveal a wrinkled face with silvery hair. It was an elderly lady.
With murky eyes that perhaps hinted at poor vision, the old lady peered at Patricia for a long while before asking in a frail voice, "Who are you looking for?"
Patricia took a photograph out of her bag. "Hello! Have you seen this person?" she asked.
The photo, which Charles had downloaded from the internet and printed out on their home printer, showed Hunter in a black suit and a red-striped tie. He looked solemn and serious – not one for frivolity. His piercing eyes highlighted a commanding presence, a handsomeness impossible to forget.
Without even looking at the photo, the old lady waved her off, "I haven't seen him, haven't seen him..."
Her reaction made Patricia suspicious. Patricia pulled out some cash and stuffed them into the lady's hand. "Please, have a look again, would you? He's a friend of mine. He's hurt, and I'm trying to find him."
At the mention of 'friend,' the old lady hesitated, her inner conflict visible before she decisively shook her head. "I haven't seen him, truly! Take back your money. I've lived here all my life. I’ve no use for it."
With that, she pushed the money back into Patricia's hands. The old lady's demeanor only deepened Patricia's suspicions. Grabbing the woman's hand, Patricia pleaded with her.
"My name is Patricia. I'm really his friend. He's injured, which is why I brought a lot of medicine for him. Could you let me see him, please?"
Hearing her name, the old lady was taken aback, "You're Patricia?"
Patricia saw a glimmer of hope, nodding frantically while pulling out her ID for proof. "This is my ID card, my name really is Patricia."
The old lady examined the ID meticulously, over and over, until finally relenting.
"Come inside with me," she said, turning to lead Patricia into the house.
Inside, darkness shrouded the space, lit only by a dim chandelier swaying gently overhead, its creaking like something straight out of a horror film, sending shivers down one's spine.
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