Dad opened the door leisurely with his left hand while clasping a gift with his right. He thought she was sleeping. He sat on the bedside before drawing the bedsheet from her face. He didn’t expect his action to wake her up, but she opened her eyes and gradually placed them on him. They made eye contact and smiled gleefully at each other before she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

“Good morning, Dad,” she said, rubbing her eyes with her hand.

“Morning, dear,” he said, extending the gift toward her. “Happy birthday, my little angel. I just. . .