272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. She wore the most expensive athletic shoes money could buy in a fashionable black color with neon green laces. "What is this?" she wanted to know. Here he was hotly pursued. I forget. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him.
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