Chapter 12I was at the corner of Second Avenue and 32nd Street and there was a trifling bit of snow, delicate and skittish. It was two minutes to six. I had to wait until the alarm on my phone went off at six P.M. It was all on the two folded sheets of paper Tad had set on my chest the night before, and which I’d kept in my pocket throughout the day.
The first had open now etched on its front, the other said wait. I had opened for the first that morning. It demanded that I stand at this corner (the northeast corner of 32nd Street and Second Avenue) until my preset alarm went off at six P.M. At that time, it instructed, I should tear open the second sheet of paper. It was all a bit like an espionage thriller. A bus rattled by and the snow blew with a rush. The alarm sang and I tore at the
