Andy
My father stared at me coldly, fury raging in his eyes. He stepped the side of the table and sat down. He didn’t offer a hand or a hug. Not that I expected him too, we didn’t have that kind of relationship.
“Andrew,” he said formally after the other man had sat beside him. His voice was flat and cold like he was speaking to a stranger he had just met and instantly didn’t like. “This is Warren Granger; he’ll be your lawyer.”
“Hello,” I said to the man, but my eyes were on my father. “Father, please, talk to me.”
His eyes pierced me where I sat as he took his seat. I tried to swallow but my mouth and throat were too dry. His mouth opened but closed back into a very tight line. His nostrils flared as he stared at me. I could almost hear his blood boil from here. In all my
