"Since you're the head of the household, Father, how many work points do you earn in a year?" Clayton Xavier stepped out, blocking Storm Xavier and reaching for the basket.
Storm Xavier's pride stung. He could hurl abuse at Verna Golding without a second thought because he couldn't stand the ugly hag. But when it came to his son, he still felt a flicker of affection—after all, the boy was his own flesh and blood. It was just a flicker, though.
"I'm not well enough for heavy labor, you know that! You're not a kid anymore, so why aren't you out there earning work points instead of sitting at home all day with those useless books? What damn good does that do? I've raised you all this time and can't even enjoy a moment of peace. I'd have been better off raising a dog!"
