The next morning, bathed in the soft, golden hues of early morning light, I sat at my study desk, a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee beside me. My fingers traced the polished wood as I delved into the recent stock market report, the pages rustling gently under my touch. The room exuded an air of serenity, complemented by the faint aroma of breakfast wafting in from the adjacent kitchen, where I had enjoyed a nutritious meal moments earlier.
As I engrossed myself in the financial analysis, the door to my study swung open abruptly, breaking the tranquil atmosphere. The intrusion was marked not just by the sound of the door but by the impatient and slightly impolite manner in which it occurred. In strode Rosa, her entrance carrying an air of urgency and discontent.
"Dad!" Her voice car
