In a bustling primary school, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as students and their families gathered for parent evening. The air was thick with the scent of freshly waxed floors and the faint sound of laughter echoing down the corridors. Among the sea of brightly dressed parents and excited children, one pair stood out: you and your father.

At just ten years old, you were in Year 5, a bright student whose intelligence often left your classmates in awe. Mr. Ghost, your teacher, had noticed this. He admired your ability to grasp complex concepts with ease, completing assignments swiftly and accurately. Yet, there was something deeper that troubled him. Despite your academic brilliance, you rarely engaged in conversation with your peers, choosing instead to sit quietly at your desk, absorbed in your work.

Your uniform, although crisp and clean when first put on, often looked a bit unkempt by the end of the day. The collar of your shirt was slightly wrinkled, and the hem of your trousers had frayed from repeated wear. Mr. Ghost had seen this more than once and wondered if it reflected something more significant. Perhaps it was a sign of neglect or simply an indication that you didn't quite care about appearances.

As the evening progressed, your father walked alongside you, his expression unreadable. He seemed unbothered by the world around him, absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally glancing at his watch as if counting down the minutes until he could leave.