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for our daughter’s sake. But you didn’t see my efforts, and now she’s dead because of you.

I cried, my heart breaking.

“Clare, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Can my daughter come back to life?” I asked.

Aiden wept, “Daughter, Daddy is so sorry. Please, God, bring her

back.

“My daughter” s spirit will never forgive you.”

Aiden slapped himself, “Daughter, Dad was wrong, come back.”

Maria’s daughter, Molly, approached. “Godfather, don‘ t be sad. My mom says now you can divorce and marry her. You can leave everything to me in your will. I‘ ll care for you as my father.” Aiden, in shock, pushed Molly to the ground.

“You, you go to hell.”

Distracted by his surgery for Maria‘ s daughter, Aiden missed his last chance to save our daughter.

Maria rushed to Molly s side.

“Who are they?” Lydia asked. People watched them angrily.

“They re Aiden‘ s lover and her daughter. He performed surgery on his lover’s daughter instead of saving his own,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Hit them!”

Friends and relatives couldn’t bear it anymore and started punching and kicking Maria and her daughter.

“Aiden, save us…” Maria screamed.

But Aiden, holding the urn, was lost in his grief, as if his soul had been ripped from his body.

After returning home, Aiden stayed in our daughter’s room all night. He wept incessantly, even banging his head against the wall in anguish.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

I also spent the night sleepless, my tears soaking the pillowcase. The next day, while sorting through our daughter’s belongings, Aiden found the Father’s Day gift she had prepared for him–a cervical massager with a card inside the box. The card read: [Dear Dad, I will be leaving home for college soon, so let this massager take the place of my hands to relieve your fatigue. While you are saving lives and healing the wounded, please also take care of your own health.] Whenever Aiden came home tired, our daughter would happily put down her book, bring him slippers, and massage his shoulders. An operation could take several hours, often leaving his neck sore. I covered my face and sobbed.

Aiden burst into tears, repeatedly confessing to our daughter. The bookcase was filled with certificates and trophies she had won since childhood-

testaments to her excellence.

Her desk was covered with various books and a family photo frame. In the photo, she smiled so brightly, a smile I could no longer see. Everything had become a memory.

Unable to continue, Aiden took out his phone and watched videos of our daughter.

“Dad, I will apply to the School of Medicine and become an outstanding doctor like you. You were my pride when I was little, and now I want to be your pride as I grow up,” she said earnestly in one video, hugging