Fiction: Group 3
“Oh, Ching… I really was the stupid one. I’m sorry… Can you come back? I miss you—”
A muffled sob rang from behind the door. He opened the door. Ching was standing at the door,
holding a duffel bag of her belongings, covering her mouth as she wept. She looked up in alarm. He took
her in his arms. “I’m sorry, I wish I could’ve realized earlier. Go be an artist—I believe in you. Don’t give
up. Your old man is here for you.” His voice softened. “That night, did it hurt? I’m so sorry…” He burst in
sobs. It was the first time he cried that hard since Ching’ s mother died.
Yan dabbed at her own tears.
Father and daughter reunited.
Back at the studio, she started to write
Ching’s story on her blog.
This is the story of a girl who fought to follow her dreams despite her father
’s disagreements…
