A Normal Day That Wasn’t
One gray October afternoon, Daniel’s driver was late.
Impatient, Daniel decided to walk the three blocks from his office to the hotel where he had a meeting. He blended easily into the crowd—his tailored coat, his lowered gaze—a man used to being unseen unless a camera caught him.
That’s when he saw her.
A little girl, no older than seven, standing on the sidewalk near Bryant Park.
She wore a faded blue jacket that was far too thin for the chilly weather, clutching a piece of paper with both hands as though it was the most precious thing in the world.
People passed by, oblivious.
Daniel would have kept walking, too—if not for what he saw on the paper.
It was a photograph.
A black-and-white memorial photo.
Of him.
