Ronan arrived at the dorm to pick up his tickets for the basketball game. The moment he stepped into the dormitory, the atmosphere shifted like a boss had just walked in. Joseph, who was previously engrossed in his video game, couldn't help but rise from his seat, overpowered by Ronan's presence.
"Hello, you are looking for Harold?"
"Yes, I'm here for the tickets."
Joseph, eager to please, picked up the tickets from Harold's desk and handed them to Ronan with an air of respect.
"Here you go, from Harold."
Ronan glanced at the tickets. "Alright, thanks."
Joseph, being his usual clumsy self, managed to knock a piece of paper off Harold's desk in the process. The paper, now sporting a torn corner, landed right in front of Callum.
"Dad, look at this," Callum handed the torn paper to his father.
"What is it?"
"The hair drawn on this piece looks just like the one in that old painting we have at home."
Ronan patted Callum's head. "Let's go."
As he turned to leave, an unsettling thought crossed his mind. Was the kid so deeply infatuated that he was drawing portraits of the same woman everywhere?
Ronan led his son out of the room, leaving a visibly relieved Joseph behind, who wondered where Harold had managed to befriend such an influential figure.
After grabbing a bite to eat, Ronan took his son to the basketball arena early. While Callum was excitedly running around, Ronan, having outgrown that age, was busy responding to messages from his associates at Millstone.
.....
Cordelia, on the other hand, was not as passionate about basketball.
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