The silence he grew up inside
His mother cooked three meals a day and never once said she loved him. His father paid school fees on time and called that enough. Nobody in that house was cruel. Nobody sat him down and explained that warmth was rationed, that affection was something you showed through function, through a full fridge, through school fees, through showing up. It was just the air of the place. And children breathe whatever air they're given.
