The Coming of the Storm

Early the next morning, Callan had breakfast in the dining room. Latisha covered her mouth and yawned as she entered. "Oh, it's been a long time since I slept so comfortably." Callan put down his knife and fork, and his mood was immediately gloomy. His disgust was so obvious that Latisha naturally felt it. However, she was not angry at all. She had been holding it in for over 20 years. What was there to be afraid of now? "Callan, you're so early! Are you unhappy to see me?" Latisha walked over and poured herself a cup of coffee. Callan took a napkin and wiped his mouth. He didn't want to say anything to her. He had to admit that he really couldn't communicate with such a shameless woman. "Hey, don't go!" Latisha stood in front of Callan and stopped him. She curled her lips and said, "We have been pretending to be friendly for many years. We should fall out with each other now. Callan, you don't want to see me. Do you think I want to see you? Do you know I want you to disappear from my