Paul flinched slightly at his daughter's rebuke, but despite the way in which her words felt like a blow to him, he kept his eyes upon her, his eyes growing harder as an effort of will.  "Carlie, I won't stand for you yelling like this.  I love you, and I want to talk to you, but you're acting like a child, screaming and throwing a tantrum.  Now you can choose to keep yelling, and keep trying to hurt your sister and I, or you can calm down and talk to us about it, and sort through how you feel, and how we feel, and maybe we can get somewhere."  His voice was hard as steel, though his eyes began to soften toward the end.  "It's your choice.  What's it going to be?"