Café Dove. It was my dad's favourite, before he... well. Let's not talk about that. I've been working here for 10 years, ever since I was 13 years old. And every Tuesday, for the last 10 years, I've seen him. He wears the same black button down, hair slicked back with gel. How was I ever supposed to keep my eyes off him? Something is different about him today. As I make quick glances towards him, sitting at a table by the window as his eyes furrow, his head cocks to the side. For the first time in 10 years, our eyes meet.