I had a long dream—a dream where Mom had never left. In the dream, Dad’s black hair was untouched by silver; there were no legal troubles entangling him; no creases gathering at the corners of his eyes. The way he looked at me was filled with nothing but love, not the suppressed pain I’d grown used to.

His strong brows were relaxed, his lips curled into a gentle smile.

My dad, my one and only true family in this world, the man who had given me his blood more than once—this dream about him felt endless. It went on and on, so long that I didn’t want to wake up....