Tyler got down from his car in front of. Today was Sunday, and he had skipped coming yesterday because of some emergency at home. He entered the house now very much familiar with it and the prying eyes of dozens of camera it had.
As he entered the living room, he found dada sitting on the couch sorting some paper. Tyler had only once spoke to him after dada’s outburst on Friday. Today he was specifically here to meet dada and ask for his permission.
“Good evening, dada,” Tyler said with a polite smile to gain the attention of the old man.
“Good evening, Tyler. Have a seat,” dada gestured for him to take a seat.
“You busy?” Tyler asked, hesitating a little, not knowing if he was overstepping his limits.
“Not as much as I have been in the last couple of days,” he answered, and offe
