“Dad?” Tyler called out with uncertainty. “Is that you?”
Hugh Grant used to be an upright, proud man with masculinity and vitality. However, the past three years had not been kind to him. The man was reduced to a husk of his former self. His posture was crooked, his hair grey, and his face wrinkled. If not for his distinct voice, Tyler would have never recognized him.
“Tyler?” his father responded. “Finally, you’re out of prison! What a relief!”
Hugh immediately became conscious of his appearance—his disheveled clothes and soiled body were pathetic. He tried to turn away so his son would not see him in such a miserable condition.
“Why don’t you go home, Tyler?” he mumbled. “Tell your mother I will work late tonight. When I return in the morning, we will catch up, okay?”
Tyler bit his lip in anguish and shook his head. “I am not going anywhere, Dad… You don’t need to work here anymore!”