The restaurant was nearly empty. Frank, 60, was sitting with his only son. Sam, 30, said."I did something really bad. I can't sleep or think. I'm hoping you can help me." Frank said."I'm here for you, you know that. I always have been, and I always will be. What do you mean by 'bad'? You didn?t murder anyone, did you?" Sam said."No, but this isn't much better. I can't even bring myself to say it out loud. Can I just write it down?" Frank said. "Of course, Son." Sam wrote something on a piece of paper and passed it over. His dad read it. He said angrily."Tell me this isn't true." Sam put his face in his hands. Frank crushed the paper into a ball. He smashed it with his fist. He said. "This would kill your mother. You're no son of mine." Frank stormed out.