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breath I didn't know I'd been holding. A few more steps and I'd be onto the streets
of New York, where my aunt was waiting, and safe inside her car.
The realization hit me that I'd navigated the train and the station both almost
completely on my own.
In my bag was 300 pages of my manuscript, and I patted it to make sure it was
still there before glancing into the glare of the sun and walking outside.
