New York stood exactly the way I left it, untouched and unmoved, as though nothing that had happened to me carried any weight here, and for once, I found that comforting rather than cruel.
I stepped out of the taxi without looking back, paid the driver without really hearing what he said, and pulled my suitcase behind me as I walked toward the building with steady steps, my attention fixed ahead.
Victor's apartment, the apartment he had gotten me.
The key slid into the lock without resistance, and the door opened just as easily, as if it had been waiting.
I walked in.
There was no hesitation, no pause to reconsider, no moment of doubt.
The air inside was still, clean, and quiet in a way that made everything feel suspended, untouched by the mess I had left behind elsewhere.
