via
the gallery and o
g again. Of c
he water soak through my clothes. I d
ob. The arrogance of it. He thought he could buy my pr
hand and h
ed as I slid in
s. The city lights blurred into str
he wind hit my face, cold a
like f
th, filling my lun
et," I whispered to the
rysler Building, the tower where Marcus lived-they all shrank un
ed the
arrived at the terminal, checked
I sat at
ing G
too
ridge, leaving New York
my seat.
d. The engines
ifte
rain lashed against the plastic window, w
and against th
odb
hed through th
bulence stopped.
s shining. It was bright and
ead back agai
sed m
a new world. No Marc
rs, the silence in my head wa
mil
over. The dream
/0/98470/coverorgin.jpg?v=1953bacd7d79f71d9cdbbf3fbed28349&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100495/coverorgin.jpg?v=4b37f96bb8e8fc01c3cd65384722b188&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104683/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9ce19c3d20a93ca95caf7c89ba159a0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106649/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc013f9614b3e2840c7775fd23782e0e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85678/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a207a63cd0a42212d96a5e751493e4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107212/coverorgin.jpg?v=1e3c8ebe7344becf6fe93e30e06e4c85&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102348/coverbig.jpg?v=0b564288298f731f7bf4ab18dcb3f580&imageMogr2/format/webp)