chapter 12

Call juice narrating:

Even at lunchtime when I was supposed to meet my father, I kept thinking about all the possibilities, why Hard had all those data, and the anger rose and suffocated me. I couldn't think about what I wanted to say to my father, I preferred to let things flow so maybe I wouldn't be fumbled with words. Something that happened when I was in front of my father. I couldn't feel like twenty-seven-year-old Call, I still felt like that irresponsible ten-year-old, scared of him screaming and talking about how he should be. It's as if, facing him, he was that same frightened boy again, afraid of one more scream:

- Good afternoon, Dad. - I told him sitting in front of him, seeing that his face was more furious than he imagined.

- Good afternoon? says how can something be good when your irresponsible son calls you first thing in the morning saying he failed? He should have been more rude to you, and perhaps he would have acquired some