“What did you do!?” Veronica cried at her father, her face wild with agony. Yet she was ignored, as Falcon puffed lazily on his opium stick like it mattered more than she did.

He admired the spiraling trails of smoke, lips curled in a smug, self-satisfied smile.

“Father!?” she screamed, stomping her foot in frustration, trembling with rage.

Falcon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yes, daughter.” he drawled, picking up the remote and casually increasing the TV volume.

Veronica snatched the remote from his hand and hurled it at the TV with such force that it cracked the screen, shattering both the remote and the television in one angry blow.

Falcon...