272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. You're in a more serious scrape than you imagine. Knew something was up. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. They went into Michelle's tiny bedroom, bare except for a dresser, a closet, and a miniscule single bed that resembled her own at the Becks. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy.
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