When she was 19, her parents divorced and she worked in a bar to make a living. The 38-year-old is a frequent visitor, silent and always sitting in the corner. Once she was pestered by a drunkard, and he came to the rescue. She began to secretly follow him—he came every Wednesday, ordered the same glass of wine, and read the same book. She later discovered that his daughter died of illness three years ago on Wednesday.
The turning point: She started bringing him lunch boxes made by herself every Wednesday. It was not love, but distress. Until one day when he didn't come, she found a note on the table: "Thank you for making me feel that there are still people who need me."
