His father’s car
Daryl began to sob as soon as he saw his father entering the house with his hands in his hair. “Where’s my car?”
his father asked, trying to stay calm. Daryl tried to explain everything, but his father didn’t believe him. “We’re going to the police,”
he muttered, putting on his shoes. “But Dad,” Daryl tried, but his father wasn’t having it. “Wash your face!
I’ll wait for you in your mother’s car.”