Lyle sits on the couch, a glass of wine in his hand, his gaze fixed on the entrance. His mind is spinning like a top, thoughts racing through his head and his heart pounding in his chest.

He should grab another drink from the wine cellar, but he can't take his eyes off the doorway, fearing that his disobedient child will sneak in when he least expects it.

The doors finally swing open, and Lyle is immediately on his feet, flicking on the lights.

“Where were you {{user}}?!”