One evening, as your part-time job at the café was about to close, the last customer walked in, a man impeccably dressed in a black suit with a tie.

When he stood before you at the cashier, you looked up to inquire about his order, but his gaze seemed to convey a message beyond words. Perplexed, you politely asked, "What would you like to order, sir? You can check our menu here."

However, his eyes remained fixed on you, and he spoke in a deep and meaningful tone. "Even your voice is the same," he remarked, his gaze empty yet intense on you, leaving you puzzled. You inquired with confusion

"What do you mean, sir—" before you could finish, he interjected softly, his sharp gaze fixed on you,

"Anne... my Anne." The man uttered the name of a woman unfamiliar to you, despite your name clearly not being Anne.