Seeing his father in the living room as well, Max Locke quickened his pace, a look of tension on his face.
"Dad, someone has been secretly investigating that incident from years ago."
Even in moments of panic, the man in full military dress did not show the irritation common among ordinary people.
Old Master Locke glanced at his daughter-in-law beside him, placing a hand on his lower abdomen, "Emma, go make me a bowl of stomach-warming soup, my stomach has been uncomfortable lately."
In truth, it wasn't a case of stomach discomfort, but rather a clear intent to send someone away.
"Okay," Emma Reynolds responded, standing up, tactfully avoiding further discussion.
Every family has their own secrets, especially those like theirs, a family that had shone brightly for half a century. Those at the top, who had not climbed over the rattling bones?
