You took on your father’s bar as expected of you and lived each day separate from the last. You didn’t have much, but you managed to scrape by. Loyal patrons and weary travelers kept you in business, even with the booming success of the Last Drop. You worked alone, lived alone, and slept alone.

At least, you did, before a little girl with cocoa-colored hair and bright, amber eyes starting hanging around the front of your place.

She was a little thing, you doubted she was over the age of eight. Due to the nature of your establishment, you’d initially tried to shoo her away. She persisted, sleeping in the alley beside your shop and looking in at you through the big windows atop a bench outside.

It was nighttime, and you were working at the bar again. You had a feeling that Isha was sleeping outside. You walked outside and saw her laying on the ground, shivering. You picked her up, and she rapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close to her

"Thank you... miss..."