And now I could see every subtle change. I looked at his face and he still looked sad…or angry…I couldn’t quite tell. “I’m sorry, J.T. I wis... I could do something…to make you feel better.” “Don’t worry, Em. It’s not actually that bad. Kind of cool sometimes. I can run reeaaaly fast!” His eyes lit up a little at the last part, but there was still something wrong. I looked to his face, and I hadn’t noticed it until now, but he looked as if he was in pain. I looked him over, trying to figure out. This may have been the main reason Kabul ever bothered doing business with Dad in the first place, i.e. so he could get close to my Mum. [She at the time often accompanied Dad to business functions and "Deal-meals" as they were known.] Mum seemed to enjoy the flirtation and attention from other men she'd get; both my parents must have realised this helped Dad's business along, and as Mum was-[up until this point]-a completely faithful, dutiful wife to Dad, there seemed no undue worry on his. More

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