Moving on - I
Adrian wiped his wet hair with a towel before dropping it in the laundry bin before moving into his closet directly. He wore sweatpants along with a hoodie before working out into his room, where his mother, Daphne was waiting.
"How are you?" She asked as the first thing, pity and sympathy visible on her face.
"I was not tortured." Adrian answered, sitting by her.
Daphne Murphy huffed in annoyance. "If I was your father, the answer may have satisfied me, contended me but we both know that that is not what I asked. I asked, 'How are You?'"
She meant all the physical and mental staff. Psychological bullshit that no one in his world gave a fuck about. Only she did. Daphne was the only one who give a shit about the psychological bullshit his father and he went through.
"I am fine, mother. Nothing happened, at all."
"James also mentioned something about a girl." Daphne muttered, her eyes still looking for any kind of wounds, he might be hiding from her. "Joyce, I heard."