“In other words, he was convincing you to let me go, right? When they want something, those priests really figure out a way to get it…” I was saying, when my father interrupted me.
“Well son, and what have you decided? Are you going to join the group or not?” asked my father.
“Me? Do I have a say in this now? who asked me?”
“Goodness! I think from what we’ve just heard, yes, they’ve asked you, and they’re waiting for you to answer,” Dad added.
“And what can I answer? This seems like a trap to me, whatever my decision, it seems that everything is already planned and I have no way out,” I was saying getting more and more angry.
“No, son. It’s you who have to say whether you want to go or not, I think that’s what your friends are waiting for,” my father told me, staring at me.
“But are
