Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 236

**When The Ocean Learned My Name and Whispered It Back to You by Aurelia Novel 236**

**Chapter 236**

Penelope’s eyes were a vivid shade of red, the kind that spoke volumes of sleepless nights and unrelenting worry. Her heart raced in her chest, pounding like a drum, and her voice trembled as she tried to convey the urgency of the situation. “Someone just called… they told me to go alone to save Timmy…”

Caleb, ever the pragmatist, wasted no time with pleasantries. His voice was firm, cutting through her panic like a knife. “Where did they tell you to go?”

“Here…” Penelope’s hands shook as she fumbled with her phone, the device feeling foreign in her grip. With a sense of desperation, she handed it over to him, her breath hitching as he examined the screen. The map glowed ominously, pinpointing the same forsaken industrial area that had haunted their thoughts.

In that moment, Caleb felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Both his wife and nephew were entwined in a web of danger, and he could almost feel the threads tightening around them.

Caleb’s gaze darted to the location on the map, and without a second thought, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully toward the car, his demeanor icy. “I’ll go. You go home and wait.”

“No.” Penelope’s grip on his arm was fierce, her panic morphing into a desperate plea. “Timmy is my son. He’s been kidnapped. How could I just go home and wait?”

Caleb shot her a piercing look, the kind that spoke volumes of his frustration, but he didn’t linger on it. His resolve was unyielding. “Then get in the car.”

“All right.” Penelope nodded rapidly, her words tumbling out in a rush, fueled by a mix of fear and determination.

A short while later, the van came to a halt in front of a dilapidated factory, its crumbling facade a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked within.

Sydney, feeling the weight of apprehension, sensed that they were no longer in Jouleston. The air outside was thick with an unsettling tension.

At the factory gate, Tyson Fernandes, a rugged man adorned with tattoos that told stories of their own, yanked her from the car with a roughness that left her breathless.

In the passenger seat, a scarred, middle-aged man named Scott Dalmer expressed his disdain with a voice that dripped with authority. “Don’t you have any mercy?”

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