Don't get involved...

Chapter 6

"I don't know, to be honest. I don't know what I'd do if I was in your shoes," she said.

"I see..." I said. "Well, you know Sabrina, in my opinion, I agree with my Dad. No, don't get me wrong, I don't hate my Mom, but I believe that she didn't do the right thing in this situation"

"Well, not gonna lie, if I were your Dad, I'd do exactly what he did"

We then talked for hours. I felt a little better talking to her. After we said bye to each other and hung up, I put my phone next to me and left my room to go to my father's room. I knocked on the door.

"Come in"

I entered inside and found him lying down on his bed.

"Hi Dad"

"Hey..." he spoke, in a tired and angry voice.

"Are you ok?" I asked, checking up on him.

"Yeah...not really, I'm still pissed after what happened," he responded, still in his bad mood.

I came near him and laid down on the bed next to him to make him feel comforted and to try to take that anger out of him. He didn't do anything for a moment, then he immediately hugged me with his strong arms. I hugged him back, but with one arm only, since my other arm still had his cast on it.

"I love you...my baby..." he mumbled.

"Me too, Dad"

We stayed like this for a little longer, then he let go of me. After a few minutes, he got up from his bed and said

"Alright, let's go. It's time to eat dinner"

"What will we eat?" I asked, getting up from the detective's bed.

"I have some leftover vegetable soup in the fridge, we'll eat that"

"Ok then"

We both then left the room and went into the kitchen. My Dad opened the door of the fridge and pulled out a huge pot from it. I'm assuming that it's the pot that contains the food that we'll eat.  He then put it on a table. The police then opened the pantry cabinet next to him and pulled out a bowl. He then opened a drawer that was under the pantry cabinet and pulled out a ladle. Soon after that, he took some soup from the pot with the huge spoon that he took from the drawer and poured it into the bowl. The man who gave birth to me then walked up to the microwave, put the bowl inside, and turned it on. In less time, he took the bowl out, grabbed a regular spoon, and put it in the bowl. He then walked to the dining room and put the bowl on the table.

I was about to go get a bowl myself until he stopped me and said

"Your bowl is already on the table, I put it for you"

"Thank you for filling up my bowl for me, but I could do it myself," I said to him.

"Well, your arm is broken," the guy responded, getting a bowl for himself.

I didn't do anything. I just sighed and sat down on my chair. My Dad did the same thing again and then, he sat at the table with me and started eating. I was eating with my left hand as my other arm was broken. But honestly, it was uncomfortable to eat with my left hand as I'm right-handed. As I watched my Dad eating, I noticed that he still had a negative feeling inside him. After he finished eating and got up to wash his empty bowl, I spoke

"Dad, please, calm down, I'm ok now. You don't have to be mad all of the time"

"No, you're not ok. Your arm literally broke. Plus, Chris is in a coma and god knows how long he'll stay like this"

"Well, he won't stay for long, at least that's what the nurse said, and I'll get this cast off my arm in a month," I responded.

"The nurse said that they're not sure, meaning that he could stay long. You and your brother could have died because of her. I don't trust her with you or your siblings anymore. I won't let her lay a finger on you guys"