Chapter 3

The house felt unusually quiet when I walked into the living room. My father was sitting in his usual chair, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over his features. His usual unreadable expression was softened only by the faint furrow of his brow as he glanced up from the newspaper in his lap. I stood there for a moment, silently observing him. He wasn’t the kind of man who made idle conversation. If you wanted to speak with him, you had to speak on his terms. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. This conversation had been weighing on me for weeks.