"Ha," Charles Hyde let out a low, cold laugh, his voice deep and sinister, "Miss Harris, what makes you think you are my son's happiness?"
"Whether I am the happiness Brandan wants is not for you to decide, but for Brandan to decide." Iris Harris gripped the phone tightly, the hard phone case pressing painfully against her palm, her voice growing increasingly tense, even slightly sharp, "Is what you're doing now something a loving father would do? You're only hurting Brandan!"
