Arriving in New York City as an eighteen-year-old on your own doesn"t resemble a kid in a candy store for the first time. It"s also not as scary as one might expect it to be, despite the overwhelming number of half-n***d women parading up and down 42nd Street. People weren"t unfriendly, but they didn"t extend a welcome mat. Not that she expected one after all she"d been through in her life, nor based on what Bryan had told her when he"d given her survival pointers.
Getting from the Port Authority bus station to the Lower East Side was easy, at least once she"d found the signs for the exit onto 8th Avenue. Amalia waited on the corner, waving her hand while a middle-aged man in a suit stopped in front of her and caught a taxi. At first, she thought he was hailing the cab for her until reali
