too loudly. To stop her tears, he promised to ‘see what he could do’, but it would just be impossible for him to move right away. Then he suggested that they instead work on finding her a new apartment out of Bayside. He had stepped outside the room to make a quick phone call and after about ten minutes, returned and announced that he had to go back to his office. A bouquet of flowers had arrived two hours later with a note that simply said, ‘With love, Michael.’ That was Friday. He then worked all weekend.
So Chloe’s mom had found her the apartment at the North Shore Towers, its windows high above the ground. It offered a single woman in the city the best of amenities: a doorman; double-bolted doors; an alarm system with motion detectors; and, a deluxe intercom system. By Sunday her parents had moved in her television, her kitchen table and chairs, and Pete. Everything else they picked up new at Sears. On Monday the Salvation Army arrived at Rocky Hill Road with their big red van. Two muscled male workers pushed past what remained of the yellow crime scene tape left dangling from the doorjamb of Apartment 1B, and gratefully hauled away the rest of what remained of Chloe’s life’s belongings. They left a receipt on the empty living room floor. And on a rainy, gray Monday afternoon, as a few curious neighbors looked on, her life in Bayside, Queens, quietly ended. Her father told her that Marvin, her neighbor upstairs, sent his regards.
Her parents, of course, had tried to convince her to move back to California. Anywhere in California would do. Anywhere out west, in fact. Anywhere but New York City. Chloe had raised the subject with Michael, but he had just as quickly dismissed the idea. His career, her firm, his family, their life together – everyone and everything was in New York. So she had lied and told her parents that they were both toying with the idea, but she needed to take the New York Bar first and start at her new firm, where she’d already made a commitment. Then she made an all-important-sounding speech about how she wasn’t going to let this maniac ruin her life or run her out of town. Blah, blah, blah. Chloe hoped she actually meant what she said.
In truth, she did not know what she wanted anymore.What had seemed so important only five short days ago now seemed utterly trivial. The bar exam, a new job, an engagement. She jealously watched television from her hospital bed as the world went on as normal, as if nothing at all had happened. People fighting the usual rush-hour traffic in the morning, and then fighting it back home again at night, just struggling to commute. And on TV, the news anchors, busily reporting the world’s comings and goings, as if these were major newsworthy events.
If you’re headed to the Island, avoid construction on the LIE and delays on the Grand Central Parkway. Tom Cruise is appearing at a star-studded Hollywood premiere in Los Angeles. Another boatload of Cuban refugees is found off the coast of Key West, Florida. Please help the starving children of the world. Unfortunately, folks, the weekend weather calls for continued thunderstorms. Sorry, boaters, better luck next weekend when drier air looks like it’ll move on in.
It made her want to scream.
The police guard who had stood by her room for the first two days was now gone and, she assumed, had been reassigned to protect yet another victim. Detective Sears had told Chloe that the guard was taken off her room because she was no longer considered in ‘imminent danger’. And although the police were ‘actively hunting the perpetrator’ and ‘following up on all possible leads’, by Monday, Detective Harrison had stopped her daily visits to Chloe’s hospital room, choosing instead to call in once a day to see how she was doing. Chloe suspected that within a few days, the phone calls, too, would trickle off, as her case was shuffled aside to make room for the new arrivals.
Her hospital room overflowed
So Chloe’s mom had found her the apartment at the North Shore Towers, its windows high above the ground. It offered a single woman in the city the best of amenities: a doorman; double-bolted doors; an alarm system with motion detectors; and, a deluxe intercom system. By Sunday her parents had moved in her television, her kitchen table and chairs, and Pete. Everything else they picked up new at Sears. On Monday the Salvation Army arrived at Rocky Hill Road with their big red van. Two muscled male workers pushed past what remained of the yellow crime scene tape left dangling from the doorjamb of Apartment 1B, and gratefully hauled away the rest of what remained of Chloe’s life’s belongings. They left a receipt on the empty living room floor. And on a rainy, gray Monday afternoon, as a few curious neighbors looked on, her life in Bayside, Queens, quietly ended. Her father told her that Marvin, her neighbor upstairs, sent his regards.
Her parents, of course, had tried to convince her to move back to California. Anywhere in California would do. Anywhere out west, in fact. Anywhere but New York City. Chloe had raised the subject with Michael, but he had just as quickly dismissed the idea. His career, her firm, his family, their life together – everyone and everything was in New York. So she had lied and told her parents that they were both toying with the idea, but she needed to take the New York Bar first and start at her new firm, where she’d already made a commitment. Then she made an all-important-sounding speech about how she wasn’t going to let this maniac ruin her life or run her out of town. Blah, blah, blah. Chloe hoped she actually meant what she said.
In truth, she did not know what she wanted anymore.What had seemed so important only five short days ago now seemed utterly trivial. The bar exam, a new job, an engagement. She jealously watched television from her hospital bed as the world went on as normal, as if nothing at all had happened. People fighting the usual rush-hour traffic in the morning, and then fighting it back home again at night, just struggling to commute. And on TV, the news anchors, busily reporting the world’s comings and goings, as if these were major newsworthy events.
If you’re headed to the Island, avoid construction on the LIE and delays on the Grand Central Parkway. Tom Cruise is appearing at a star-studded Hollywood premiere in Los Angeles. Another boatload of Cuban refugees is found off the coast of Key West, Florida. Please help the starving children of the world. Unfortunately, folks, the weekend weather calls for continued thunderstorms. Sorry, boaters, better luck next weekend when drier air looks like it’ll move on in.
It made her want to scream.
The police guard who had stood by her room for the first two days was now gone and, she assumed, had been reassigned to protect yet another victim. Detective Sears had told Chloe that the guard was taken off her room because she was no longer considered in ‘imminent danger’. And although the police were ‘actively hunting the perpetrator’ and ‘following up on all possible leads’, by Monday, Detective Harrison had stopped her daily visits to Chloe’s hospital room, choosing instead to call in once a day to see how she was doing. Chloe suspected that within a few days, the phone calls, too, would trickle off, as her case was shuffled aside to make room for the new arrivals.
Her hospital room overflowed
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