Kevin's nostrils were overwhelmed by the smell of stale beer from the moment he walked through the front door. He did his best to steel himself, holding his breath as he closed the door behind him. His father was slumped in the recliner, eyes fixated on the television, with four cans of empty beer piled on the table beside him. Without moving a muscle, his father asked, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
The color drained from Kevin's face, his mind racing through the probable scenarios. His greatest fear was that his father had discovered the secret stash under the floor, though he felt that was improbable. He decided his best course of action was to play it cool, though that usually didn't pan out well. "W-what do you m-mean, Dad?" he asked, stuttering slightly.
"I was in your room today. There was this ungodly smell of fish, and you left your radio or something on all day," he said plaintively. Kevin could tell that his father was leaving out some details, but he continued to try and play it safe.
"Oh, I’m sorry, Dad. I didn't think I left anything on," he responded tentatively.
"That's the problem, you don't think," his dad replied with disgust. "The sound was coming from your dresser. I couldn't quite tell from where, but I did find this." He picked up something that was lying face down by his empty beer cans and hurled it toward Kevin. He barely had time to react, bobbling the picture frame between his hands. Once he gained control of the frame, he turned it over, revealing a picture of his mother.
"You went through my things," Kevin said softly, his eyes narrowing.
"As long as you live in my house, you live by my rules. If I throw away something of mine, I expect it to stay in the trash!" he thundered.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he replied. His father turned his head. There was a fiery look in his eyes. Kevin instinctively took a step back.
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