I will die first," she sobbed. I decided it was time to change the subject for a little while."Want to tell me why you're calling me Patrick, instead ...f Daddy?" I asked her gently. I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't think I would notice."I... I don't deserve to call you Daddy. Look what I did to you!" She wailed. I held her close, waiting for the newest tears to subside."Sammi, you can always call me Daddy. That's who I am. You don't have to work to be good enough to call me. This is a story of me when I was in 10th class we had a cable network and I used to look after it. I used to go to person who were not paying their bill and ask for the problem. As I good reputation in the society I never had a idea to miss uses it. In my colony their was a family from pune uncle was a employ in railway working as a driver aunt was also a employ of some bank her 2 daughter 1 studying in 9 and elder graduating they were very good family when they first shifted to our locality. More

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