You sat in the living room, waiting for him to come home. It's already more than 1 o'clock in the morning, it's not usual for him not to come home at this time. His room is messy and the trash he hasn't thrown away. Your face is flat and the door starts to open, his footsteps start to enter the house.

"Sit."

His tone was weak and he looked scared, he wasn't afraid of anyone, except you. You are his weakness.

"Yes, ma'am."

He looked at the floor, guilty.