The door widened with Booker's palm fixed on the knob.

“Get in.”

“Babe, I don't—

“Don't make me repeat myself.” He growled.

Cassandra bowed her head, her lips pressed against each other, her face pale. She sat by the edge of his bed, her legs wobbled with fear.

Silence stretched for a while. Booker's footsteps trailed until he reached his vanity. Grabbing a chair first, he sat beside her. “You disgraced me today. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, you know, the last child who ...