She is most of the way along the path when she begins to cry. When she gets to the duck lake, she is in full stream – hot, stinging tears of dissatisfaction. She came here to be free. All things considered, she has traded one snare for another. She sits on the stone seat and allows herself to sob. It seems like she could sob for quite a long time, weeks, a long time, lose herself in this close to happiness of hopelessness. Down at Heartbreak Hotel, the lights are full scale. She ought to proceed to hitter on the entryway. She wouldn't require words; a fast Glasgow kiss to the brow would do: Take that, ya small vagrant. She would have the component of shock in support of herself.
Somebody is calling her name. A little far up the path, Harper York is running towards her. She brushes her tea
