"If you can't even beat me, how do you expect to protect yourself?" he asked, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "You say that like people are after me," I grumbled, not moving from the ground. For a moment, Dad just stared at me. There was a look on his face. The look that I know means he wants to tell me something, but isn't sure if he should. I've seen that look plenty of times in my life. And usually, Dad ends up saying what he has to. "Get up," he stated instead. "Ugh! Dad-" "You can be finished for now, but you're going to get up and follow me," he said, cutting me off. "There's something I want to show you." I sat up, looking at Dad. He held my eyes for a moment before turning around and heading towards our house. It was a small two-bedroom house, perfect for just us.

