Raindrops hit the earth in a rhythmic patter, bouncing crisply off the roof tiles before turning into a torrential downpour in a matter of seconds. The violent roar of the storm echoed incessantly, laced with the howling wind that swept away dry leaves. Rain lashed against the windowpanes with a sharp, stinging hiss. Outside, the world was swallowed by the dark abyss of the night.
Blending into the cascade of rain was the poignant sound of a violin played by a young man. A dim oil lamp flickered in the corner, casting a warm amber glow over part of the room. In its soft light, his silhouette emerged—slender, elegant, and entirely consumed by the music. With the violin rested gently against his collarbone and his right hand guiding the bow, evocative notes poured into the night.
Gradually, however, the melody grew violent and turbulent. Driven by rising anguish, his bow struck the strings with intense pressure until a string snapped with a sharp, resonant twang.
The music ceased abruptly.
Hy placed the instrument onto an adjacent chair and collapsed onto the leather sofa. He rested his forearm across his forehead to shield his eyes, his face etched with exhaustion and deep-seated weariness. The rain continued to fall in a steady cadence outside, as though those frantic final notes had drained the last reserve of his energy. On the coffee table lay a framed photograph, turned face down—a silent witness to the burden weighing heavily on his chest.
....
Suddenly, his phone vibrated violently, breaking the silence. A call from an unfamiliar number filled the room.
Hy answered, his voice icy and laced with resentment. "Don't call me again. The moment you abandoned my sister and me for that woman, you ceased to be my father!"
The harsh exchange jolted Felix awake. Stepping quietly to the crack of the bedroom door, the young boy gripped the doorframe, his wide eyes peering into the dim room. At that moment, Felix realized that the man who loved him like a father didn't always carry a warm smile, nor could he always remain as gentle as when he cared for him. Sitting hunched on the sofa, Hy looked visibly broken, desperately trying to suppress the raw emotions surging within.
A tentative knock sounded at the door, followed by Felix's trembling voice. "Dad... can I sleep with you tonight?"
Hy stood up and opened the door, having already gathered what had happened. Kneeling down, he pulled the small boy tight into his arms.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Hy whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Dad woke you up, didn't he? I'm so sorry..."
...
The following morning, Felix was awakened by loud, hostile voices echoing from the living room. Clutching his teddy bear tightly to his chest, the small boy tiptoed cautiously toward the main room, trembling with fear.
In front of him, Hy was kneeling on the floor, his arms forcibly pinned behind his back by two burly men. Seated on the living room sofa was a stern man in his sixties, flanked by a somewhat younger woman whose face bore the subtle marks of aging.
Hy raised his eyes, a mocking sneer curling his lips. "Didn't you come here begging me to save your precious daughter's life? Isn't this coercion a bit excessive?"
"Name your price," the old man replied coldly. "Just save my daughter."
"Now that sounds much better than invoking 'flesh and blood,'" Hy spat back. "Tell your thugs to let me go. We have a deal."
The man waved his hand. "Release him."
....
Shortly after, Hy arrived at Hospital T, one of the most advanced medical centers in the city. His expression remained cold and distant as he followed a nurse down a quiet corridor to a private VIP room.
Inside, a pale young woman lay weakly on the hospital bed.
The old man stepped forward, his voice tentative. "Her surgery is extremely complex, Hy. I'm counting on you. After all, the two of you are..."
"How much are you paying me?" Hy interrupted sharply.
"Whatever amount you demand."
Hy gave a curt nod.
The commotion woke the young girl on the bed. Seeing the old man, she turned her face away in disgust, prompting him to quietly exit the room.
The girl stared blankly at the wall, ignoring Hy's presence. But Hy didn't let her hide behind her silence. His cold words provoked her, causing her to snap.
"Get out!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "I don't want to see you!"
Hy remained unfazed. "You're scheduled for surgery tonight."
She thrashed against her bedsheets, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Unbind me! I don't want your surgery... Let me go! I'd rather die!"
"Is your desire to die supposed to be my problem?" Hy replied impassively. "I have no obligation to listen to your self-pity. Excuse me, but that's not my job."
....
That evening, the operating theater at Hospital T was fully prepared. Behind the observation glass gallery overlooking the room, a media crew and medical observers monitored the setup through high-definition cameras.
Hy entered the surgical suite, casually glancing up at the gallery before focusing entirely on the task at hand.
The patient, Ly, lay supine on the operating table, her neck gently hyperextended over a shoulder roll to optimize surgical access to the thyroid gland. The anesthesiology team promptly administered general anesthesia, inserted an endotracheal tube to secure her airway, and established intravenous lines for continuous fluid and medication delivery. The surgical nurse meticulously disinfected and draped the neck area.
Once the sterile field was secured, Hy picked up a scalpel. With fluid, decisive mastery, he made a low transverse collar incision along a natural skin crease over the thyroid. Throughout the thyroidectomy, the observers behind the glass watched in silent awe as his fingers operated with surgical perfection—precisely dissecting the tissue, preserving the recurrent laryngeal nerves and parathyroid glands, and resecting the diseased thyroid tissue.
Upon concluding the procedure and closing the incision with fine subcuticular sutures, Hy stepped out of the operating room, his mind lingering on his fractured relationship with his sister.
...
Leaving the hospital late at night, Hy caught a taxi home. Standing near the front gate in the cool air was small Felix, patiently waiting.
As soon as Hy stepped out of the vehicle, the boy sprinted forward and threw his tiny arms around Hy's leg, peppering him with anxious questions.
Hy scooped the child up into his arms. Instead of answering, he offered a warm, gentle smile and promised, "Tomorrow, Dad will take you out to play."
A few days later, during Ly's postoperative recovery, Hy brought her to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.
Hy gestured toward one of the incubators. "Look at that baby over there."
Ly looked through the glass, her voice soft and hesitant. "Is that baby... premature?"
"A newborn frail child fighting with everything it has just to secure a chance at life..." Hy said quietly, staring at the tiny infant. "While you want to throw your life away over family grievances... Tell me, Ly, do you think that's worth it?"
