”Dana! Dana!” The call came from the speaker of an intercom on the bedside table. “I hear you, father,” a young woman answered pressing a button. “What’s up?” “I just had fifth attack,” a tired voice told. “I cannot hold on much longer. I want to tell you something before – well, before I’ll die.” “I’ll be right there,” Dana promised and got up from the bed. She had expected something like this since her father had suddenly fallen ill. She opened her father’s bedroom door without knocking. “Are you all right?” Dana asked. For a moment they were silent. “But –“ “What are you talking about?” Dana asked.