“No, I have to wait right here. I have a meeting with my daughter,” the old man replied, his voice trembling but determined.

“You must leave right away, or I’m asking security to escort you out,” the receptionist repeated, annoyance dripping from every word.

“If you would just listen to me,” the old man pleaded, clutching the brim of his worn cap. “I have every right to be in this hotel like everybody else!”

But it didn’t matter. Two burly security guards approached, lifting him gently but firmly from his seat. Despite his protests, they carried him out to the pavement, ignoring his cries.

Banned from entering the hotel, the old man sat on the cold steps, his shoulders slumping. He had saved for weeks, scrimping every coin just to come here—to see his daughter. He hadn’t seen her in years, not since she had cut ties with him after marrying into wealth. He had hoped today would be different. That maybe, just maybe, she would remember him.

Tears streamed down his weathered cheeks. He cried until the sound of a sleek engine made him lift his head. A posh black car rolled up to the curb, its paint gleaming under the hotel lights.

The window rolled down. A woman’s elegant face appeared. Her makeup flawless, her jewelry sparkling. She looked at him with surprise—and hesitation.

“Excuse me, sir,” the woman said softly from the car.

The old man blinked, his heart skipping. He would know that voice anywhere.

“Emma?” he whispered, his lips trembling.

Her eyes widened. It was her—his daughter.

For a long, silent moment, they just stared at each other. Her life of luxury on one side of the glass, his life of hardship on the other.

Finally, her voice broke. “Dad… get in the car.”