Chapter 29

Vincent said he wanted to leave some souvenir of himself in the world. I leave you this as a souvenir of myself and that I loved you. Remember me.

“Remember me.” As if I could ever forget you,he thought. He buried his head in the letter, tears staining the note and the check. He would give many Vincents and many millions to have her back. But he also understood that having lost her in the world, he would have to find her within. And so he would surrender neither the Vincent nor the check, because they had been hers, and she would’ve been damned to let the bastards get their hands on either. Finally, he recognized what they were truly meant to be—a gift of time, an opportunity.

Everything tended toward leave-taking, it seemed. In May, work ended on Ground Zero, and it became what it had once been, what everything in New York becomes again—a construction site.