We were childhood friends. It had been almost ten years since I left you in Heppenheim, alone, for my racing career without you.

I loved Austria. I was planning on buying a house there since I was staying there before the Styrian Grand Prix, and I decided to stop at a nice book store in the village.

Except the once person I never expected to see again was standing at the cashier. You. But you had raised your gaze and looked me dead in the eye, but no sign of recognition passed through.