The sounds of the city faded away as we stepped into the quieter side streets of the Pangu district. Based on information received from our trusted informant, the Rat King, we had managed to track down Lila's estranged father. Ahead of us stood a modest, somewhat worn-down building, the familiar sights and sounds of a carpentry workshop wafting out from the open door.
Worn wooden signs and tools scattered haphazardly revealed its identity. The smell of sawdust hung heavily in the air, a testament to the manual labor that transpired within. Sawhorses and workbenches lined the floor, while several unfinished pieces of carpentry were propped against the walls, showing signs of dedicated workmanship.
Lila paused at the entrance, uncertainty clouding her features. "You alright, Lila?" I asked, my voice low so as not to intrude on her thoughts.
She glanced at me, offering a small nod before stepping over the threshold. Her fingers gently trailed over the rough wood of the door, her gaze taking in the workshop. It was a far cry from the rundown mess it had been the last time she'd seen it. It seemed that her father had taken my words to heart after all.
Turning back to us, Lila motioned for us to wait outside. "I'd like to handle this alone, if you don't mind," she requested softly, a determined glint in her eyes.
I gave her a reassuring nod, watching as she disappeared into the workshop, the door closing softly behind her. It was a moment of closure, a chance for Lila to confront her past. And no matter what transpired within that room, we would be there to support her when she emerged.
Inside the workshop, Lila's father paused his work at the sight of his daughter. His hands stilled, the sandpaper in his grip falling onto the wooden table. His wide eyes took in Lila, disbelief etched on his worn features.
"Lila...is that you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"It's me, Father," Lila replied softly, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet workshop.
In the next moment, he had dropped the piece of wood he was working on, rushing towards her. The two embraced, tears welling in both their eyes. He was mumbling something incoherent into her shoulder, words like "missed" and "sorry" mixing with choked sobs.
Eventually, they broke away. He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the regret of a lifetime. "I was saving up, Lila... wanted to buy you back."
She shook her head gently. "Father, it's fine. Master Chang treats me well, and I'm here to say farewell. I'm embarking on another journey."
A wave of relief washed over her father's face, his shoulders sagging as he let out a deep sigh. "Oh, my dear girl...you've grown so much."
As Lila turned to leave, her father called out to her, "Lila, can you...can you ever forgive me?"
She paused, glancing back at him with a small smile. "I forgave you a long time ago, Father."
"And...will I see you again?" His voice wavered, filled with hope and fear.
Lila nodded, her heart aching at the desperation in her father's eyes. "I'll try to visit once a year, Father."
As the silence lingered in the air, Lila's father suddenly broke it, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you, Lila."
His words echoed in the small workshop, reverberating with the heartfelt sincerity that laced each syllable. It was a confession, an apology, a promise wrapped in three small words.
Tears welled up in Lila's eyes as she turned back to face him, her face a mirror of the pain and longing evident in his own. "I love you too, Dad."
The words hung in the air between them, a poignant testament to their shared history, the love that had been strained but never completely broken. They moved towards each other, a force pulling them into a tight embrace, each holding onto the other as if their lives depended on it.
The room was filled with the sound of their muffled sobs, a symphony of pent-up emotions finally allowed to flow free. They held onto each other for what felt like an eternity, each finding solace in the warmth of the other.
But eventually, the moment had to end. Lila slowly pulled away, her hand lingering on her father's arm for a moment before dropping to her side. She gave him one last look, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination, before turning to leave.
"Goodbye, Dad." The finality in her voice was almost deafening.
"Goodbye, Lila." Her father responded, his voice barely more than a whisper.
And with that, she walked out of the workshop, the door closing behind her with a soft click, leaving her father alone in the suddenly quiet room.
Q: What would you say to a family member you haven't seen for a long time?