When Joar got home that evening, his old man almost beat him to death, and if it hadn’t been so unbearably cruel, it would have been almost ironic, beating a child because he had been fighting at school. His old man came down on him like an avalanche, and it wasn’t even to teach him a lesson. He just did it because when the principal called him, he had had to sit there and pretend to be a proper parent, a real dad. It had reminded that bastard of what he really was: nothing. That was why he beat the boy extra hard.
