I didn’t hesitate any longer. I stormed into the house without knocking.

— “Dad?” My son turned pale when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

My eyes swept over the decorated table, the dishes, the candles, the glasses of wine. And I roared so loudly that everyone froze:
— “While you sit here celebrating, your son is freezing outside!”

My son frowned, trying to appear calm:
— “This is just a family matter. He’s being punished.”

— “A family matter?” I stepped closer. “You left a five-year-old child in the cold, without food or water, and you dare tell me not to interfere? Who do you think you are?”

— “Dad, don’t ruin our party. It’s my birthday.”

— “What party?” My voice was full of contempt. “What party, when your son is trembling from the cold right outside the door?”