Chapter 289 Forget and Begin Again
Alexander's pupils constricted sharply.
"You were addicted back then, sir. At first it was just occasional use, but then it spiraled out of control. By the time Mr. Armando Hamilton found out, you'd been using for nearly two months." Mark's voice was low, but each word was clearly enunciated.
"He tried locking you up to get you through withdrawal, tried bringing in doctors—he tried everything he could. But during that time... you were like a completely different person. You'd beg him, lie to him, do anything to get out."
"That's when he officially started considering backing Carl."
Alexander's temple throbbed violently.
A blinding white light flashed in the deepest part of his mind, quick as a camera flash. He couldn't see anything clearly, couldn't grasp it.
"He cut off your money, thinking it would stop you from getting the drugs, but..." Mark's voice trembled. "You still ran away. You left home with nothing. No one knew where you’d gone. He sent people to look for you, searched for a full six months, went through every corner of this city—but they never found you. And then, one day, you just came back."
Six months.
Alexander's body began to tremble.
"Mr. Armando Hamilton kept this whole thing tightly under wraps." Mark continued. "Mr. Linus Hamilton's side was always watching you. If Linus found out you'd disappeared because you'd lost control from addiction, he would definitely use it against you. So Mr. Armando Hamilton told everyone you'd gone abroad to study. It was during that time that he privately backed Carl and arranged his engagement with the Cook family."
"Mr. Armando Hamilton kept it very quiet. From discovering your drug addiction to your recovery and return, very few people knew the full story." Mark lowered his voice. "I heard it from one of his former subordinates who'd been with him for years but suddenly left. That person said back then, everyone who knew what really happened was either dealt with by Mr. Hamilton or sent far away, never allowed to return. He was one of those who got sent away."
Alexander bit his lip hard. Nausea surged through him, his throat tightening as his head spun—like something inside him was trying to break free.
"But..." Mark's tone suddenly became more cautious. "There's one more thing."
Alexander looked at him, only then noticing that Mark's eyes had somehow filled with tears.
"Coincidentally, during that same period, Ms. Caroline Neville got an opportunity to go abroad for a high school exchange program. Mrs. Neville didn't want her to go, because Mrs. Neville had already arranged her engagement with the Simmons family and didn't want her getting too much education."
"That was the only time Ms. Neville had a direct confrontation with her family. After that, she secretly left. She left alone, suddenly, without much money, and no one knew where she went."
Alexander's eyes widened sharply.
"Also for a full six months before she came back. No one knows how she survived that time alone out there, cut off from money."
The dull ache in Alexander's head flared sharply, as if something inside him had been torn open. A seam he’d sealed shut for years split in his mind, unraveling fast, spilling out everything he'd buried more than a decade ago.
Images hit him one after another without warning—rapid-fire flashbacks that flooded his head and left no room for anything else.
In his memory, he seemed to see a suburban road. Tall trees lined both sides, their canopies overlapping, pressing the light down low. It must have been early morning, the fog not yet lifted.
In the memory, he walked alone on a narrow stone path. The shoes on his feet didn't fit, the soles thin as paper, each step making the soles of his feet ache.
He didn't know where he was going. He only knew he couldn’t stop—because the moment he did, the drug that had been pulling him under would take over his mind. Worse still, he had nothing on him.
Next scene.
An unfamiliar outdoor market, stalls crammed together, some selling vegetables, some fruit, some old clothes. Voices clamored, the air mixed with the smell of fish and rotting vegetable leaves.
He crouched behind a stall. When the vendor turned around, he snatched an apple from the basket.
He stuffed the apple inside his clothes and walked far away, not daring to take it out until he reached a small river. The water was clear. He rinsed the apple briefly and took a bite.
The apple was very sour, so sour his brow furrowed. But he still ate it all, didn't even spit out the core.
Then came dusk.
He huddled under a bridge, wrapped in an old coat he'd pulled from a trash bin, arms around his knees, staring blankly as the sky outside gradually darkened.
The scene suddenly shifted.
A young girl stood before him.
She wore a cotton dress, her hair down, blown somewhat messy by the wind. She crouched down, meeting his eyes at his level.
Her eyes suddenly reddened.
She pulled a piece of bread from her pocket and held it out to him.
Alexander wasn't very lucid at that point. He vaguely felt she was familiar, but couldn't remember who she was. He just instinctively took the bread, because he was so hungry, and ate it the moment he got it.
"Is there... more..." he greedily licked the breadcrumbs from his palm, asking the girl sitting beside him.
"No more." Her voice was soft.
"Come with me. I'll take you somewhere. There's more bread than you can eat there, you won't have to be hungry anymore."
"No... I won't go with you..." He hugged his knees tighter, his body shrinking back. "I don't know you..."
"My name is Caroline."
She crouched closer, reaching up to brush away the messy hair from his forehead.
"You do know me, Alexander. It's okay if you don't remember, you can remember slowly."
Caroline held out her hand to him.
The pain peaked at that moment. Alexander's body lurched forward, his hands gripping his head tightly.
"Sir!" Mark's urgent voice came from far away.
Alexander felt someone grab his shoulder, calling his name repeatedly, but he couldn't respond.
Those images kept surging up, wave after wave, as if something long held down had finally broken through the floodgates.
Caroline took him away from under the bridge.
She led him far away, until they reached a small house.
Outside the small house was a little courtyard with a lemon tree growing in it. The trunk wasn't thick yet, only about as big around as an arm.
Caroline opened the door and let him in.
She told him, "This is my house. No one will find you."
The first day living in the small courtyard, the hardest part was bathing.
Alexander didn't remember how long he'd been missing. Caroline told him later it was about a month and a half.
He was terribly dirty, with an obvious sour smell on his body. Worse, the side effects of those drugs had clearly weakened his physical functions—even simple movements had become difficult.