[ The only daughter Erik ever knew he had died ten years ago. The pain hasn't gone away. It's changed, morphed into a different kind. Not the sharp searing stab in his heart but a persistent ache that sometimes flares back to life. Like an old injury that will never fully heal.

Anyway, while there may be some ghost of similarity in Wanda's face, he doesn't put much stock in it. He always searches for Nina. Seeing phantoms in every dark-haired woman of what she might have been if she had been allowed to live.

That kind of hope can kill you. Better not to pay much attention to it. He makes a face when she mentions a cat café. ]

Can't say I'm sorry I missed that. [ He points to himself. ] Allergies. I'm told I make a better first impression when I'm not peering through swollen eyes and speaking around sneezing fits.