Clive asks. I walk away from the TV and toward the window and look down on the entire panorama of New York City and Central Park and the crowds of people swirling around below us in slow motion, each of them going off purposely in one direction or another, like they’ve captured by some filmmaker who’s made a living map of the world. Only I’m not on it. And I am feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt and I don’t know where to turn anymore because if the guy I am obsessed with actually was one of the massive NYPD patrol that backed up the feds assigned to put my dad behind bars for the rest of his life, where does that leave me? And even if he wasn’t, he is on their side. Otherwise what is he doing working for the NYPD? Ro is right. Someone like me cannot fall for a cop. I start feeling this overwhelming rage at Michael and everything he stands for. Then again, what did I expect? It’s not like he led me on. Everything that’s happened was my doing. So really, what’s left?
