Hannah took a pair of tiny tweezers, carefully aligned a microscopic paper fiber, and then picked up a fine brush to apply a delicate solution. Nobody in the room said a word as they waited for her next instruction. That young woman was not merely gluing papers together; she was working with the same intense concentration that I used forty years ago when I spent entire nights adjusting a wood joint until it fit perfectly.
Suddenly, the realization hit me hard. We were exactly the same kind of person, as I had dedicated my life to woodworking while she dedicated hers to paper and history. I had spent a decade despising the very quality that made us identical.
I walked back down to the office with barely any strength left in my legs. Dr. Hayes then told me something that completely shattered my spirit.
“Hannah always tells us she chose this profession because of you,” Dr. Hayes said softly. “When she was a little girl, she used to watch you transform ruined pieces of wood into beautiful furniture, and she wanted to do the exact same thing for historical documents that time had destroyed.”
I covered my face with my trembling hands. A moment later, the office door swung open, and Hannah stepped inside the room.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.
I stood up slowly from the chair. “I came here to ask for your forgiveness,” I managed to say.
Before she could respond to my words, my mobile phone started ringing loudly in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that Chloe was calling me.
“Dad! We just found out who Hannah really is!” Chloe shouted frantically through the speaker. “She is the famous restorer who signs all her major work as H. Miller, and people are saying her new project just received a hundred million dollars in funding!”
Hannah extended her hand toward me calmly. “Hand the phone to me, Dad,” she said softly.
“Yes, Chloe, it is me,” Hannah said into the phone in a calm voice.
Chloe began talking so fast that she could barely catch her breath. “You have a hundred million dollars and you never mentioned a word to us?” Chloe yelled angrily. “We are your family, Dad is sick, and you could easily hire private nurses, buy him a new home, and help the rest of us out!”
