Samuel Johnson shoved his hand away, his voice filled with anger, "If you don't explain things clearly to me, don't expect me to leave!"
Mr. Johnson opened his mouth but eventually shook his head, "You should say a proper goodbye to your friends here."
Samuel was infuriated to death by him and glared at him before turning away and storming off.
Mrs. Johnson tidied up upstairs and, upon hearing the engine of Samuel's car, knew her son had left. Only then did she carefully make her way downstairs.
On the sofa sat her husband, looking exhausted. The consecutive nights of flights, combined with the lack of time zone adjustment, had added a look of tiredness to his refined face.
Mrs. Johnson walked over to her husband with concern, wrapped one of his arms in hers, and asked in a soft voice, "Donald, why did you ask Samuel to leave? No matter how angry Dad gets, he wouldn't really hurt Samuel."
