Botan took my hand and led me toward my father. When I saw my father, I reached out to kiss his hand, a traditional gesture of respect, but Botan squeezed my hand to stop me. This felt odd to me. After all, he was my father. At least he hadn't abandoned me. He had taken care of me for 18 years. He didn't have to. Sure, people would initially criticize a man raising a child alone, but eventually, they would understand the difficulty. Although being criticized was a significant issue for my father, he still took care of me. He had looked at the face he couldn't bear for 18 years.
Botan's expression turned stern. The man I had just shopped with was gone. His ability to change so quickly was frightening.
"What business do you have at my door?" my father turned to him.
"Everything stems from
