“Dear God, Ma, please.”

Max's whining voice was heard again that morning. It sounded exactly like yesterday, two days ago, three days ago, or even four days ago. Not only were the whining phrases the same, but the look of desperation on his face and the tone of his voice were also identical.

Max sat on the edge of the bed, holding the phone to his ear for the ongoing morning call. The call, as usual, was coming from Riley.

“Every day, I just want to have breakfast with salads, not with a phone call from Mama.”

A short sigh from Riley was heard from the other side. “Well, I’ll...