Adelle took out her phone and dialed her father's number.
"Dad, did you happen to catch the outcome of the dressage competition?" she inquired, skipping any form of greeting.
"Yes, and you won the gold medal." A deep, gruffly voice came from the other line.
"Dad, why does that woman's name come before mine? You promised that the gold medal would be mine," she complained.
"Adelle, to be completely honest with you, I think you should be happy with being a silver medalist. Didn't you see how amazing that woman and her horse were at performing that tap dance?" The man's voice was gentle. If the generals whom he was meeting earlier could hear him, they would swear that he was a different man. But then, they knew that tier boss was a doting father.
Adelle asked, "Dad, am I your daughter, or is she your daughter?" She was upset and wondered if her performance was really that bad that even her father did not agree she deserved the gold.