He paused, wiped his forehead.
The video ended.
“This is for me,” he said quietly. “The hospital’s sanitation system was designed by an architect who never used a wheelchair. The sink is too high. The toilet faces the wall. I’m fixing it so the next old man can wash his hands without dislocating a shoulder.” He paused, wiped his forehead
That night, for the first time in years, he dreamt of his father—not as a gray man in a gray apartment, but as a young engineer crouched under a sink, smiling as water finally ran clear. for the first time in years