Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
floor of the house. There was no sound save for the ticking—and for the pounding of Ronnie's heart. He stood alone in his upstairs bedroom. His slender-boned, eight-year-old body trembling, perspiration glittering on his white forehead. To Ronnie, the clock seemed to be saying: Daddy's coming, Daddy's coming. would happen. Maybe Dad would have an accident. Maybe— He bit his lip hard, shook his head. No. No matter what Dad might do, were like a web of taut-drawn wires. Sound and movement below. Mom flicking off the controls of the kitchen's Auto-Chef. The slow stride of her high heels through the living room. The slamming of a gyro-car door. The opening of the front door of the house. Dad's deep, happy voice echoed up the stairway: Ronnie huddled in the darkness by the half-open bedroom door. Please, Mama , his mind cried, please don't tell Daddy what I did. There was a droning, indistinct murmur. Dad burst, "He was doing what ?" Ronnie silently closed the bedroom door. Why did you tell him, Mama? Why did you have to tell him? "Ronnie!" Dad called. like a wounded bird falling out of the sky. He saw that Dad and Mom were waiting for him. Mom's round blue eyes were full of mist and sadness. She hadn't bothered to smooth her clipped, creamy-brown hair as she always did when Dad was coming home. And Dad, handsome in his night-black, skin-tight Pentagon uniform, had become a hostile stranger with narrowed eyes of black fire. Ronnie tried to keep his legs from shaking. "It was—Daddy, you won't Mom stepped forward. "David, you promised you'd be sensible about this. You promised you wouldn't get angry." Dad grunted. "All right, son. Go ahead." "Well, one day after school Kenny said he'd show me something. He took me to his house—" ? You actually—" "Dear," said Mom. "You promised." A moment of silence. "How long ago did all this start? "T—two years ago." Dad rose, fists clenched, staring strangely at nothing. "Two years," he breathed. "I thought I had a good son, and yet for two years—" He shook his head unbelievingly. "Maybe it's my own fault. house in Washington instead of trying to commute." "David," said Mom, very seriously, almost as if she were praying, "it won't be necessary to have him memory-washed, will it?" Dad looked at Mom, frowning. Then he gazed at Ronnie. His soft-spoken words were as ominous as the low growl of thunder: "I don't know, Edith. I don't know." Dad strode to his easy chair by the fireplace. He sank into its foam-rubber softness, sighing. He murmured a syllable into a tiny Dad puffed furiously on his cigarette. it just isn't done. Why, the President himself wasn't trusted to learn till he was nearly fifty!" Dad straightened his shoulders. "Look at me. I'm only 30, but I've been a messenger for Secret material already. In a few years, if things go well, I should be handling had a Reader for a son?" "B—but, Daddy—" Dad jumped to his feet. "I hate to say it, Edith, but we've got to put this boy in a reformatory. Maybe a good memory-wash will take some of the nonsense out of him!" Please—" Dad stood very tall and very stiff, not even looking at him. "They A corner of Mom's mouth twitched. "David, I didn't want anything like have the mind of a six-year-old child again. He'd have to start to school all over again." Dad returned to his chair. He buried his face in trembling hands, and some of his anger seemed replaced by despair. "Lord, Edith, I don't know what to do." before. Why, that alone would mean the end of my promotions." Silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the ticking of the antique clock. All movement seemed frozen, as if the room lay at the bottom of a cold, thick sea. "David," Mom finally said. "Yes?" "There's only one solution. We can't destroy two years of Ronnie's Dad interrupted: "But he'd still remember how to read, unconsciously was he reading?" A tremor passed through Mom's slender body. "There were three books on his bed. I'm not sure which one he was actually reading." Dad groaned. " Three of them. Did you burn them?" "No, dear, not yet." "Why not?" tonight, after you d seen them—" "Get them, damn it. Let's burn the filthy things." Mom went to a mahogany chest in the dining room, produced three faded volumes. She put them on the hassock at Dad's feet. Dad gingerly turned a cover. His lips curled in disgust as if he were touching a rotting corpse. trap so easily." "What do you mean, David?" Dad nodded at the clock, and the slow, smouldering anger returned to his face. "It's your Mom's face paled. "I don't understand." Mom whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry, David." Hot anger flashed in Dad's eyes. "It isn't enough to be sorry. Don't time of birth. He'll have to start life all over again." "No, David, no!" "And in my position I can't afford to have an eight-year-old son with the mind of a new-born baby. It's got to be Abandonment, Edith, there's bother us again." Mom ran up to Dad. She put her hands on his shoulders. Great sobs burst from her shaking body. Dad stood now like a colossus carved of black ice. His right hand was still upraised, ready to strike again. Then his hand fell. His mind seemed to be toying with a new thought, a ," said Mom through her sobs. " Mom's voice was a barely audible croak. !" Mom sucked in her sobs. Her chalk-white cheeks were still streaked with rivulets of tears. "I'm sorry, David. I've never told anyone—not even Ronnie. I haven't read a book, haven't even looked at one since we were married. I've tried to be a good wife—" "You lied to me," Dad snapped. "For ten years you've lied to me. Why Why? " Mom was silent for a few seconds. She was breathing heavily, but no longer crying. A calmness entered her features, and for the first time Her words echoed in the room until absorbed by the ceaseless, ticking clock. Mom stood straight and unashamed. Dad's gaze traveled slowly to Ronnie, to Mom, to the clock, back and forth. At last he said, "Get out." Mom stared blankly. "Get out. Both of you. You can send for your things later. I never want to see either of you again." !" Ronnie and Mom left the house. Outside, the night was dark and a wind was rising. Mom shivered in her thin house cloak. "Where will we go, Ronnie? Where, where—" "I know a place. Maybe we can stay there—for a little while." "A little while?" Mom echoed. Her mind seemed frozen by the cold wind. "Hi. Who's that? Your mom?"

<question>:
Why was Mom upset and disheveled when Dad came home?

<options>:
A She had to tell Dad about Ronnie's mis-behaviour
B She was worried Dad might hit her again
C She had been working at the corporation all day
D She had not finished making dinner for Dad

<answer>:

A