Part II, Chapter I

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Brooklyn, New York

"Time stops for no one." Spot Conlon had heard that phrase once in his life. He never understood the true meaning until he left the train station that day, his head hung low, powerless. It had taken years for Spot to grow to love Emma, and only a moment to lose her. Time had not dealt him a fortunate hand that day, and he could not take back any time to start over.

But it was not in his nature to analyze what had gone wrong in the relationship or what had happened to make him lose the most important person in his life. Nor was it in his nature to accept full responsibility, even when he had admitted to some of it when he planned to talk to her the day she had left. It was one hundred percent likely that Spot simply became enraged with the situation, bitched about it a little bit, and scoffed it off in the end.

"She's just ridiculous," stated Spot a week later.

"Ridiculous?" repeated Bolt skeptically.

"Yeah, Bolt, did I stutter? Can't believe she'd be so selfish just ta up an' leave like that…what a shitty thing ta do ta someone. That makes her ridiculous."

Bolt glanced at his friend, who furrowed his eyes in concentration behind a hand of playing cards. He replied calmly, "I see yer point. Anythin' ya gonna do 'bout it?"

"What d'ya mean? She's in Philly."

"Not gonna go try an' find 'er there?"

Spot's head snapped to attention, his face twisted to prove Bolt's absurdity. "What makes ya think I wanna see 'er again, Bolt?"

Bolt pressed his lips together and pointed to Spot's bunk. Hidden beneath the bed was a small suitcase. His nightstand was cleared of personal things, save for a jar full of coins and a dollar bill. Spot eyed the suitcase, shook his head, and shuffled the cards around in his hands.

"That'd be ridiculous, Bolt. I can't leave Brooklyn." He grouped his cards together, indicating he would fold. "Not for her."


Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

There wasn't the same comfort in her Philadelphia apartment as there had been in Brooklyn. This was mostly to blame, of course, because of the short time Emma had decided this—she was in her new bedroom for an hour and forced herself not to like it. Even with her mother's family living two doors down in the cramped, narrow-spaced, crooked apartment building located one block from the bakery, there was no real comfort.

She didn't unpack her suitcase for two weeks. On some level, she knew this act was completely pointless, because even if she had the money to move back to Brooklyn, she wouldn't. Not with Spot living there. Too much of her past was still alive in Brooklyn.

Yet even so, Emma found herself dangling her legs from her fire escape outside her bedroom window, staring up into nothing and trying to clear her mind. The only thing similar to her old home was the fire escape—she did find comfort in that. Too many memories for her involved a fire escape.

"It's time for dinner, Em," called her mother from the window.

Emma nodded. She brushed herself off and followed her parents two doors down the stuffy hallway to her Aunt and Uncle's apartment, where five children littered the rooms, either helping in the kitchen or running around in circles. Emma did not think they deserved attention. She found no humor in them.

"Chin up, Emmy," said Aunt Susan with a smile.

After a moment, Emma forced a smile onto her face.

"Oh, before I forget…" Aunt Susan dug around the pockets of her apron and retrieved a bronze key. "In case of emergency, your parents want you to have this. It's the key for this apartment, in case you ever need something and we're not here."

The smile faded quickly from Emma's face as she stared achingly in the small trinket sitting in the palm of her hand. Warding off the tears welling in her eyes, Emma tightened her hand into a fist, the key's ridges digging into her shaking flesh. She took a seat at the dinner table, getting used to the people before her and the room around her. She knew she would be seeing these people everyday for a long time; she adjusted her in her seat and tried, against her will, to get as comfortable as she possibly could.