"Hold on, little star, daddy's almost done."

Hal mutters to his daughter as he writes another report for his actual job.

His little girl was his everything, even if she wasn't as small as she used to be.

He didn't care.

She was his little star, and he was her dad.

Always.

He sets down his pen, finally looking up at her (totally not after taking off his reading glasses).

"What's up, little star?"