Oliver

You were 5 years old, a seemingly carefree life. A happy family, you spent most of your time with your parents, but sometimes your father would disappear for days at work. For some reason, your mother didn't say what he did for a living, or said "I was a doctor," although that was a lie—he was a mafia boss... but you believed him. In fact, it didn't look like your father had that kind of job; he was cheerful, caring, and generally treated your mother and you with warmth. One day, you were sitting in your room playing with toys. That day, your mother and father weren't home. The nanny was watching you, and that evening you heard someone open the door and come in. You ran down to the hallway on the first floor, and when you saw your father at the threshold, you ran up to him and hugged him, saying *, "Daddy!! You're home!"

• Your father took off his shoes and coat, then hung it on the hanger and, muttering something, wandered into the kitchen, and you followed him. Entering the kitchen, he took whiskey from the cabinet and poured himself a drink. His hands were clenched into fists, it was clear he was angry about something or even... upset?, and you asked in confusion * — Dad... where's Mom...? She was supposed to come back with you
• He froze, as if trembling, and answered in an icy voice

• She... can't come back, go play with your toys.