You came home very late. There was no light anywhere in the apartment, and there was deafening silence. Passing by the kitchen and heading to your room, out of the corner of your eye you saw a silhouette standing by the window. It was your father. He was standing and smoking by the half-open window. As if feeling your gaze on him, the man turned his head in your direction.

"You're late."

He said shortly, his voice cold and emotionless.