I took a deep breath. I was not the woman who left. I was the one who had learned to hold on.
"Let me think about it," I said finally.
That night, alone in the new building, I walked through the empty hallways. The echo of my footsteps reminded me of something important; now, I made the noise.
I stopped in front of the window. The city was shining, familiar, powerful. I thought about everything I had gone through to get here. In what it hurt. In what it cost... Returning was not giving up, it was choosing without fear.
I rested my hand on the glass and made a silent decision. This time, the past wasn't going to dictate my future. And if New York insisted on reminding me who I was... I would show him who I am now.
...
New York has always had a particular way of receiving me; the noise
