Lack of attachment

[Flashback of the Young Finn Davis]

"Mom?" The young Finn, about four years old, came downstairs while hugging a drawing book. He had an innocent smile on his face — excited, even — because he had been waiting for this day to come.

His parents promised that today would be his day. Just him and them.

"Yes, I see — well, I… can't, okay?" The woman, standing in the living room while holding a tray with the phone between her shoulder and ear, looked a little impatient with the person on the other end of the line. "What?! Are you kidding me? We already agreed — what do you mean it can't happen today if I'm not there?"

Outraged, the woman dropped the tray on the coffee table and held the phone. She ran her free hand through her hair, walking away to talk more fiercely to the person on the other end of the line.

Finn pressed his lips into a thin line, looking up the stairs, only to find his father rushing down while wearing his suit.