Outside, the January sun had already begun its lazy descent, casting long, cold shadows across the salt-streaked asphalt of the parking lot. Snow was piled neatly against the curbs, grey and unassuming.

Inside, the air smelled of stale coffee, rubber floor mats, and the faint, sweet perfume of the car air fresheners hanging by the register.

The bell above the door jingled.

He was here again.