“Good God, son.” The cabbie had spotted Charlotte standing on the curb. She wore an orange coat with matching gray mittens and a hat. She was neat and adorable. “Good luck.” His sarcasm was not lost on Michael. “Thanks.” Michael opened the cab door, all too aware of his rumpled clothing and messy hair. “Wow.” Charlotte smiled at his crumpled demeanor. “But I was expecting you to be later!” She glanced at her wristwatch “It’s only 8:19!” She held out a fist. Michael bumped it awkwardly. “I’m really glad you came,” Charlotte gestured behind her, to a tall building with scaffolding up to the third floor, and several missing windows. It bore all the hallmarks of past beauty. It still retained some of the original stonework detail over the double doors. The brick, though considerably crumbled, was still repairable. “Where are we?”
