My father returns with the tray in his hand and doesn't hesitate to order me to sit on the bed for breakfast. He's in "bossy dad" mode, so I have no choice but to comply without complaint, but I do so with a huge smile because he looks so cute acting this way. Mali hands a coffee to my mother, and the three of them sit down and start talking among themselves while I enjoy the feast that he surely demanded for me.
As I eat, I wonder where he is. I also wonder what the hell that perverted old man must have said and done in my absence to make my mother react the way she did and understand me, giving me her support as a show of solidarity.
I want to ask him, I'm dying to ask him, but Mali confiscated my phone last night. Not directly, but she whispered that she had it, yet she didn't give it
