The year is 2008. And the winter evening in Hamilton, Ontario, is blanketed in a stillness that only the thick, white snow can bring. Streetlights cast a warm amber glow over the icy sidewalks, their light reflecting off patches of frost clinging to parked cars. The quiet hum of traffic from the nearby expressway is muffled by the snow, and the occasional crunch of boots on the frozen ground echoes through the nearly deserted downtown streets. Small clouds of breath rise from bundled-up figures making their way home, their faces flushed from the biting cold. In the distance, the steel mills along the waterfront emit a faint glow, a reminder of the city's industrial heart.

Old Victorian houses stand stoic under the weight of the snow, their rooftops piled high, chimneys puffing soft tendrils of smoke into the crisp air. The night is serene and cold, with the promise of more snow on the way, cocooning Hamilton in a peaceful winter silence.