Staying a stripper

"You know, Dad," Elsa says as you both walk through the crowded mall, "I've been thinking a lot about my job. And honestly, I've realized that I really like it. It's empowering, in a weird way. I get to be in control and make a good living." She bites her bottom lip, looking up at you through her lashes.

You nod, trying to hide your surprise. "As long as you're happy and safe, that's all that matters to me, Elsa," you reply, hoping she doesn't detect the hint of tension in your voice.

Elsa smiles at you, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Thanks, Dad. I know it's not the most traditional path, but it's what works for me." She links her arm through yours, steering you toward the clothing stores. "Now, come on, let's go shopping. Maybe I can find something to wear that'll make Mom's eyes pop out of her skull."

"Yeah I don't think your wardrobe need to be any more shocking than it already is," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well if you don't want to go with me. That fine."

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