Neuro submission transmitter 5
"God damn! That fucking bastard!" I hear mom yell from the living room. Jumping out of bed, I run in to see what's wrong. Mom's fuming as she walks back and forth reading a letter. She's wearing a short terrycloth robe that she must have slipped on to go out to the mailbox."What's wrong, mom." I ask, putting my arm around her shoulder and trying to read the letter. "What's that?" I ask."It's a letter from your father's lawyer." She yells, stomping her feet. "He says your father is entitled to...