Dad is an amazing guy, and he's getting screwed, but not in the right way, and I want to know why. I have to be careful and think about what I'm saying. He doesn't know I know.
"Dad, how much of all this do you pay for?"
He blushes and fiddles with his spoon. "You don't need to know all that stuff, Pixie."
He's sitting, looking down into his coffee cup. I feel so sorry for him. I know he isn't cool with Faith being the provider.
"How many followers do you have, Dad?" I ask to change the subject to a more pleasant topic.
He looks up and smiles. "Ten K and rising. I put any profits from the books into marketing, setting the stage for number five." He goes back to stirring his coffee, avoiding my eyes. "So, this. This is all from Mom's commissions."
"I know." I reply, "It's okay, Dad. A
