IMOGEN'S POV
As I carried the stack of plates towards the dining room, I heard familiar footsteps approaching. Suddenly, I was enveloped in a warm embrace, my father's arms wrapping around me as I struggled to keep the china from clattering to the floor.
"There's my girl," he said, his voice full of affection. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"
He gently took the plates from my hands, and we walked together into the dining room. The polished wood of the table gleamed under the soft lighting, a far cry from our old cramped eating space.
"I'm fine, Dad," I replied, forcing a smile. "How's the clinic going?"
