February 2013: Kombinować

As he opened the door to the driver's seat, Maxwell gave a glance at each of his children, landing his eyes last on Syn. He wanted to ask his daughter what was wrong for her to be acting aloof. The tension inside the truck was one that he didn't appreciate.

It was pricking his muscles.

It was crawling under his skin. 

Most of all, it was feeding his guilt, with the intent for it to grow beyond his composure. 

The man didn't wish for such a mood to linger during their entire trip. So he sought to address it in that instant. 

"Syn, are you mad that I didn't fetch the four of you in front of the house?" Maxwell said as he scratched his head. He wasn't certain if that was the reason, yet he couldn't think of another. "I'm sorry. I had to call someone. It won't happen again."