There was one forward minded girl who was planning for Father's Day already. Abigail pushed her way into the antique shop, hands in her jacket pockets. She was dressed a bit more demurely than most teenage girls - jeans, ballet flats, a floral blouse - with long dark hair in a demure braid.
She smelled like anise and pomegranate, and she bit her lower lip nervously as she eyed the pocket watches.