Their daughter, Mia Scott, for whose safety they had been worried sick, got off a clearly modified motorcycle.
At a glance, there were four or five people crammed onto the single bike.
She was wearing a spaghetti-strap mini dress, the likes of which they had never seen on her before.
Their daughter, who was supposed to be at home studying, was now leaning against a young delinquent, a cigarette pinched between her fingers as she puffed out clouds of smoke.
The Scott Family's apartment wasn't on a high floor, and with few pedestrians around at night, they could clearly hear what was being said below.
"Millie, thanks for treating us tonight. Give me some time, and I'll get you something special to enjoy."
The young man sitting behind Mia Scott leaned in suggestively, his fingers tracing her bare shoulder. Every now and then, he would move close to her face and sniff at her.
