Father

Whitley’s gaze drifted to the ground after the door clicked behind him. Jacques’ hand came up underneath his chin, forcing their blue eyes to lock. A knot formed in his throat from his father’s minty breath, but he didn’t let his eyes drop again.     “I can’t believe how poorly you did!” Whitley stumbled back a bit, wincing as he slammed into the door. He inhaled sharply but kept his eyes locked on his father. The man stalked behind his desk and pulled out the paper he’d turned in a few days earlier for his economics class. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the harsh 71% scrawled in red in the corner. He knew the sources had been somewhat poor, but the information had been accurate. WHy had the teacher scored him so poorly? He tensed, knuckles white as he gripped his pants with one hand.     “Come over here and sit down.”     “Yes Father.” His monotone rang hollow off the walls of Jacques’ office. He just bowed his head and sat in the chair across from his father. He barely caught the flurry of paper and forced himself to not rip it as he shook. He didn’t dare break his father’s gaze until the man looked down for a moment. Even the slightest sign of disobedience could spell major repercussions, so it was best to just obey. “Tell me what you did wrong.” He held Jacques’ gaze for a moment before turning to the paper in his hands. He flipped through the red marks and his shoulders dropped. No wonder he had failed so miserably. The information was more than six months out of date. His sources were secondary, not from the SDC’s own databases. “The information is far too low quality for any Schnee’s standards. It’s not from internal, proprietary information and it’s more than six months out of date.” How hadn’t he picked up on that? He always checked the date if nothing else. Failing by thirteen points was absolutely unacceptable. Really, falling into the average range of 94% or below was unacceptable. This was absolutely reprehensible. He looked back up at his father who nodded. “What does any true Schnee aim for?” Whitley took in a breath as he locked eyes with his father, speaking the words in unison. “Victory through control and perfection.”