After collecting the initial statements, the officers explained the next steps.
Daniel thanked them and helped his father stand.
As they walked toward the entrance, Emily approached.
"Sir, I'm sorry."
Thomas stopped.
"For what?"
"For not helping you sooner. I saw what was happening, but I was afraid."
Thomas looked at her gently.
"Don't blame yourself for being afraid. The important thing is that you spoke when you found the courage."
Emily's eyes became watery.
"Thank you."
Thomas nodded.
Daniel watched the exchange and felt something inside him shift.
His father had just been publicly humiliated, physically hurt, and treated like someone unworthy of respect.
Yet he still had enough kindness to comfort the person apologizing to him.
Daniel wondered how many times in his life he had mistaken kindness for weakness.
He helped his father into the car.
Before starting the engine, he looked over.
"Dad, we're going to the hospital."
Thomas sighed.
"Daniel..."
"No arguments."
Thomas smiled.
"You've become quite stubborn."
Daniel finally smiled too.
"I learned from the best."
They drove away.
Behind them, Richard stood beside the restaurant window, watching the car disappear.
He pulled out his phone.
"Find out everything about Daniel Bennett," he ordered. "His company, his business partners, his investments. Everything."
He paused.
"And find out why his father is selling that land."
Richard ended the call.
He had made a mistake.
But he was not yet ready to admit it.
At the hospital, doctors examined Thomas and confirmed that he had suffered bruising around his shoulder and a minor injury to his forehead.
Fortunately, there were no serious fractures.
Daniel stayed beside him throughout the examination.
He answered questions, collected the medical documents, and made sure his father received the necessary treatment.
When everything was finished, the doctor gave Thomas a few instructions.
"Rest for the next several days. Avoid lifting heavy objects, and return if you experience worsening pain or dizziness."
Thomas nodded.
"Thank you, Doctor."
Outside the examination room, Daniel checked his phone.
He had missed eleven calls.
Three were from his business partner. Four were from employees. The rest were from people waiting for him to attend an important investment meeting.
He turned the phone off.
Thomas noticed.
"You don't have to cancel everything because of me."
Daniel looked up.
"I know."
"You have responsibilities."
"I know that too."
"Then why are you still here?"
Daniel sat beside him.
"Because you're my father."
Thomas smiled faintly.
"That isn't an answer to everything."
"It is to me."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Daniel looked at the medical report.
"Dad, why didn't you tell me Richard was meeting you today?"
Thomas looked surprised.
"I didn't want to disturb you."
"Disturb me?"
"You've been working very hard. I know how important your company is."
Daniel leaned forward.
"You're important too."
Thomas looked away.
He was not used to hearing those words.
His entire life had been built around giving rather than receiving.
When his wife was alive, he had worked hard to give her a comfortable home. When she became sick, he sold his tools to pay for treatments that insurance did not cover.
After she died, he worked even harder.
He wanted Daniel to have a future that was not defined by loss.
But in doing so, he had slowly learned to hide his own needs.
He rarely asked for help.
He never complained about loneliness.
And whenever Daniel apologized for being too busy, Thomas always said the same thing.
"It's all right, son. I understand."
Sometimes it was true.
Sometimes it was not.
Daniel broke the silence.
"How long have you been dealing with the property?"
"A few months."
"Why didn't you ask me to review the offer?"
Thomas hesitated.
"I wanted to see whether I could handle it myself."
"You don't have to handle everything yourself."
Thomas gave him a thoughtful look.
"Daniel, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Are you happy?"
The question surprised Daniel.
He had expected another conversation about the property, the police report, or the medical bill.
Instead, his father was asking about his life.
Daniel leaned back.
"I think so."
"That's not the same as being happy."
Daniel looked down.
He thought about his apartment, his expensive car, the company he had spent ten years building, and the meetings that filled nearly every hour of his day.
He had everything he once dreamed of.
Yet he could not remember the last time he had enjoyed a quiet evening without checking his phone.
"I don't know, Dad."
Thomas nodded.
"That's an honest answer."
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"I spent so much time trying to build a successful life that I forgot to enjoy the life I was building."
Thomas smiled.
"Your mother used to say something similar."
Daniel looked up immediately.
"What did she say?"
Thomas's expression softened.