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By appearance alone, Samuel Goffe was certainly Hector’s father. They shared their slender builds, their thin noses, their prominent brows, and their slightly darker skin tones. About the only things Hector took from his mother were her eyes and hair, but as he kept his head shaved, that left only the prior.

“Morning, son.”

“Morning...”

Hector made himself a bowl of cereal. And a bowl of oatmeal. He grabbed a chocolate muffin as well. Then a banana. A glass of milk, too. Some strawberry yogurt. Peanut butter on toast. And a couple waffles for good measure. He sat down across from his father.

As he ate, he kept expecting his father to bring up the subject of his school attendance, but the man seemed content for them to sit in silence. Hector could see the coffee mug shaking as his father sipped from it.

Garovel floated around the table. ‘Maybe you should ask him something.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. How his day is going? Say anything.’

‘No...’

‘Why not?’

‘Just... no...’

The reaper made a face but didn’t press further.

His father finished his coffee and moved to the living room to watch the morning news. Hector devoured the rest of his breakfast, climbed back upstairs, brushed his teeth, grabbed his bag, and shambled off to the bus stop.

Garovel was not prepared to let the topic of Hector’s father go, however. ‘I know you don’t have the warmest relationship with your parents, but even still. You could have at least attempted a conversation with him.’

‘There was no point,’ he said. ‘Dad’s having a bad day...’

The skeleton raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’