Jamison Tyler missed his wife. He missed her so damn much. At this point, the only thing keeping him going was his four year old daughter Roselle, the light of his life. She needed him, so he fought to stay healthy and sober… so he did.

“Dada!” The little girl giggled as her papa made breakfast. “Person!” She points to the window at someone walking towards the porch.

“Huh… that’s a bit strange ain’t it Rosie?” He says casually, glancing out the window. It’s a bit early for mail, isn’t it?