I force the thoughts from my head. Why am I daydreaming about this? Right now, I need to focus on making supper...

Marcus comes downstairs, a stack of papers in hand. "I'll be back at about seven." I swallow, then say the words I'd only ever uttered once, to my mother.

"Okay, dad. I...I love you." Marcus seems taken aback, but only for a second. He purses his lips, and offers me only a slight nod in response. Before leaving, he puts out his cigarette.

Of course. Smoking in public would be frowned upon. No matter. I concentrate on cooking once again. This would be the best meal ever... I hope...

******

I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I waited until eight thirty, and Marcus didn't show up. My food, the vegetable soup is prepared for Marcus, has gotten cold. Depressed, I eat in silence. Then, out of nowhere, I hear my name.

"Tobias." I look around. "Mom? Mom!" But of course, it was only my imagination. Tears burn behind my eyes. . . Suddenly, the door slams open. Marcus is home. I jump to my feet. "Dad?" Marcus crosses the room in two long strides and slaps me across the face before I can react.

"Did you tell anyone I mistreated you? Answer me, boy. Did you?" He begins undoing his belt, not even giving me a chance to reply. "This is for your own good."