"Sir, there's no reason to return something that's already been sent to the hospital," the shop owner said, feeling that giving the fruit back would bring bad luck.
Harold Watson understood the owner's concern. He said nothing further, tucked the bag of cherries under his arm, and hobbled toward the bus stop under the scorching sun.
The last bus had just left, and the next wouldn't arrive for twenty minutes.
Harold sat on the bench, staring down at the cherries in his bag. Memories of Summer Watson's childhood flooded his mind.
Summer had been taken away by social workers on her third birthday.
That day, Harold had steamed a small cake for her with the rice cooker. When Summer realized she was about to be taken away, she quietly cried through the cake-eating.
When the staff arrived, the little girl could no longer hold back her emotions. She burst into tears, pushing the cake aside and flinging the social workers' hands away. She knelt in front of Harold, clutching the empty leg of his trousers with both hands, tearfully shouting, "Daddy, Daddy, I'm not leaving! Sunny wants to stay with you!"
Harold's body ached, and he often relied on alcohol to numb the pain. Sunny—that was Summer's childhood nickname. Whenever he longed for a drink, calling out "Sunny" would dull the pain for a moment.
Looking at the child's tear-streaked face, Harold's heart broke. He begged them not to take her, promising to provide a better life. But the staff's words crushed his hopes in an instant:
"You are disabled, living in a rented room, eating simple meals. If she stays with you, she will be the child of a poor, disabled family. With a wealthy family, she will grow up as a young lady of privilege.
Your love for her… is actually harming her."
Harold awoke to the truth in that statement. Looking at Summer's delicate face, he realized that his love and possessiveness could ruin her life.
She deserved a better environment, a higher education, and a brighter future.
Harold gently pried her tiny fingers off his trouser leg, his heart bleeding as he spoke the cruelest words he could muster:
"Sunny, you're just a burden. Staying with Daddy will only weigh him down. I don't want you anymore. Go."
"Daddy, you're lying! I'm not leaving!" the little girl wiped her tears and hugged his legs again.
Harold pushed her away with his cane, stood up, and walked toward the room, speaking over his shoulder, "Go. I don't want to see you again. Never."
He thought that sending Summer away would give her a better life.
But he never anticipated how heartless Victor and Clara Watson would be—turning her into a tool to earn money. Over the next fourteen years, Summer became a star. Her TV dramas had high ratings, and her movies were box-office hits.
Everyone adored Summer, praising her acting, beauty, and promising future. But Harold, seeing that bright, beautiful girl on TV, felt an endless ache.
She was still a minor! She should have been enjoying carefree school days, not selling smiles and songs on set and in recording studios!
He had failed. Completely.
…
Recalling everything, Harold felt a crushing guilt. He slapped himself across the face.
"Harold Watson! You pathetic coward!"
He hated his own weakness and incompetence.
He shouldn't have sent Summer away. He should have fought, begged, or done whatever it took—even spilled blood—to raise her himself.
At that moment, a fair, delicate hand reached into his plastic bag and plucked out the ripest cherry.
Harold tilted his head in surprise, seeing a young woman squatting next to his left leg.
She held an umbrella with one hand, a black scarf covering her face, while her other hand brought the cherry to her lips.
Harold stared, stunned. Despite the scarf concealing her face, he recognized Summer Watson by her eyes alone. The left eye even bore the tiny black mole he remembered.
Seeing Summer, Harold couldn't hold back the tears.
"Sun—"
The name leapt on his tongue, yet he felt unworthy to speak it.
Summer tossed the cherry pit aside, lifted a finger to tug at the empty leg of Harold's trousers, gently shaking it just like when she was a child.
"Daddy, are you here to take Sunny home?"
Harold's sobs broke free, deep and restrained, like a wounded beast refusing to surrender.
"Sunny… Daddy… failed. I couldn't protect you!"
Looking at this frail, weathered man, Summer felt a deep ache in her heart.
Harold was the only true family she had known. Though she had grown up on Earth with loving adoptive parents—a mercenary alliance leader mother and a post-apocalyptic research tycoon father—they had protected and loved her unconditionally.
But it was Harold who had always been her real family. Having taken over Summer's body, she could finally care for her crippled father, repay his love, and take care of him in his old age.
Seeing Harold's anguished tears, Summer felt a pang of sorrow herself. She lifted the scarf and wiped his tears.
"Don't cry, Daddy. Sunny doesn't blame you."
Tears wiped away, Harold finally took in her current appearance.
Seeing the scarred right side of her face, his heart wrenched.
"Sunny… your face…" His fingers trembled, wanting to touch her, yet fearing to hurt her.
Though separated for fifteen years, Harold had watched Summer on TV every day, in dramas and commercials. He knew how beautiful she had been. Seeing the girl he once adored now disfigured, he regretted everything.
Summer lifted the corner of her lips and comforted him, saying, "Sunny's ugly now. My adoptive parents didn't want me because I couldn't earn money. Daddy, Sunny doesn't have a home. Will you give Sunny a home?"
"What! Victor and Clara actually drove you away?" Harold's face darkened. He stomped his cane and cursed, "Those two… monsters!"
Harold's rage and helplessness were so overwhelming that he could barely breathe.
Summer patted his hand gently, feigning sadness.
"Daddy, they treated me badly. I've wanted to leave them for a long time. Daddy… will you mind if Sunny isn't pretty?"
"Nonsense!" Harold gripped her hands tightly, tears streaming.
"Sunny, if you don't mind, come home with Daddy. I'll support your studies. We won't be stars anymore, but you can still have a bright future!"
"Okay!"