During the wedding, my mother-in-law declared, “We’ll give the apartment only to our son, so she won’t get any share.” Everyone went silent. Then my father, who works as a long-distance driver, said calmly, “Now let me speak.” What happened next left her speechless…

Anna’s gaze shifted, moving across the silent room until it rested on her father. She knew her father—his quiet strength, his unwavering integrity, his deep well of dignity. In this agonizing moment, she sought his support, a word, a look, something to anchor her in the storm.

Robert Peterson, a tall and solid man despite the years spent behind the wheel of a big rig, slowly rose from his seat. His movements were deliberate, confident. He wore a simple but neat suit, bought especially for this day. There was weariness in his eyes, but also an inner strength that refused to bow to circumstance. He cast a short, proud glance at his daughter, a look brimming with love, and made his way to the microphone.

Eleanor crossed her arms, a queen on her throne, ready to swat away whatever pathetic platitudes this simple man might offer. It never occurred to her that a man like him could possess a power far greater than her own.

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