Chapter Nine

JACKIE

Sitting at the back of the yellow and black taxi, Jackie watched the world spill by the windows. Even after being gone for so long, the city was as she remembered. Cold. Loud. Crowded. It was frigid enough that she could see her breath colour the air in front of her. Cars honked, people hurried by or walked leisurely, like the teenagers on the side of the road in full winter apparel, walking as though they had all the time there was. People sprung out from the subway, from beneath the bowels of the earth, hurrying as they went. The noises that could be heard were a hushed quiet from behind the taxi's stiff windows.

As the scenery changed, Jackie could only think of her father. He had been gone since the day he called her and she heard gunshots over the line. She had called him repeatedly, texted, sent voicemails, panicked. It was all for naught. He had vanished.

She booked a flight, and the next day, she had packed a bag and was headed for the airport. Her stomach