In the early hours of the morning Kent comes through the door to the third floor dressed in his wrinkled clothes from the night before. He exhales a deep breath through his nose as he pulls the door shut behind him and starts downward, his eyes on his feet.
“What were you doing with her in there, dad?”
Kent jumps at the voice, his eyes fastening suddenly on Daniel, who sits at the foot of the third-floor staircase, his back pressed against the wall. Waiting for him.
Kent says nothing to Daniel, just stands frozen, staring at his son. Daniel looks exhausted as he slowly shakes his head. Has he been sitting there all night?
“I saw her when she came out last night, crying. You can’t bullshit your way past this one, dad.”
Kent’s eyes narrow at his son. What, after years of having no q
