Khaat was heading back to her own room, too tired to go back, and knowing that was full well what her father had planned. As she passed their open door, she heard her father call to her. She went in and saw him sitting in his favorite chair, setting aside one of the newspapers he'd bought. "Yes?" she asked. "Come in, Dear. I want to talk to you a moment," he said. Khaat went in, and he motioned her to sit on the bed across from him. "What's up?"
"I'm going with you," he said quietly, "That's not open to debate." "Daddy?" she frowned. "Oh, please," he sighed, "Please don't insult my intelligence, Khaat. And don't try me. You know better." Khaat sighed heavily. "Must I explain myself?" Robert asked, looking over his reading glasses at her. "No," she replied softly, leaving. "Good night," he called after her.
She went into her room, waved her hand to turn on the lights, and sat down on the sofa, and waved her hand again to start the fire in the fireplace. "Uncle Remus," she sighed, wishing he was there with her tonight, "What on earth did I do to make him not want me?" Her head pounded--still. She began to wish she had had her father fix that, but she wasn't going back to ask him . She was not happy with him, and she was tired. She sat staring into the fire, feeling lonely and lost.