Six years ago, he said, "This child cannot be kept."
I tore off the B-ultrasound sheet and vanished from the world.
Six years later, my daughter needed money urgently for surgery, so I went to one of the top ten chip companies in the world for an interview.
"You're a college dropout, so you don't meet the requirements." The interviewer frowned.
I turned around and left.
In the monitoring room, the superior man smashed the teacup: "Keep her!"
He didn't know that the child he lost was lying in the hospital waiting for money to save his life.
