His father’s brows tightened.
“All my life,” Daniel continued, “people have treated me differently because of your name. They respect me before I earn it. They praise me before I achieve anything. How can I ever lead your company one day if I don’t understand the real world? I want to learn a real skill. I want to work with my hands. I want to know what life is like for the people who struggle every day.”
Silence returned to the room. Outside the tall windows, wind stirred the trees on the hill.
Richard rose and walked slowly to the glass, looking out over the city below. He remembered his own beginnings—harder, rougher, lonelier than his son could imagine.
Finally, he turned back. “Where would you go?”
“South Africa,” Daniel answered without hesitation. “Johannesburg. I’ve read about the industries there—mechanical work, machine repair, manufacturing. I want to learn how things are built from the ground up.”
Richard returned to the table and sat down. “And you expect to live like a worker?”
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