With her bubbly long hair tied in a ponytail, Flora looked energetic and enthusiastic.

Izzy felt tired and testy and she hadn’t even run two steps.

And now, here they were, feet pounding in rhythm, synchronized.

Feeling irritable, Izzy increased her pace.

At this rate the last laugh was going to be Flora’s. That’s if either of them had the breath to laugh.

They reached the Brooklyn Bridge as the sun rose. In the distance she could see the Statue of Liberty and New York Harbor, and beneath them the sparkling expanse of the East River.

It had been her mother’s favorite run, and Becca had always insisted on going early before the route was crowded with pedestrians and cyclists.

The only place she’d ever stopped was on the bridge and then she would throw back her head, take a sip of water and smile a self-satisfied smile, allowing herself less than a minute of contemplation. We live in the greatest city in the world, Izzy. City of dreams.

Shaking off the image, Izzy glanced over her shoulder and saw Flora had stopped at the edge of the bridge. Her eyes were closed, her face was red and she was panting for breath.

Izzy stopped, too. Respect bloomed inside her. Grudging, but there.

“Are you okay?” She had a feeling that if she killed Flora, her father wouldn’t be pleased. She liked to think she wouldn’t be pleased either, but lately she didn’t recognize herself. She didn’t examine her responses too closely, because she wasn’t sure she was going to like what she saw.

Flora dragged in a great gulp of air. “I’m so unfit.” But she was laughing in between the pants and Izzy found herself almost smiling, too.

It unsettled her, so she turned away and stared at the Manhattan skyline as her mother had always done.

“It’s the greatest city in the world. City of dreams.” She parroted her mother’s words and then felt foolish. They sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, and not only because she hadn’t visited that many cities. The irony was that her mother didn’t believe in dreams. She believed in action. Goal setting. She was constantly moving forward.

“I’ve lived here all my life and this is the first time I’ve seen the sunrise from here.”

“Do you want to run onto the bridge?”

“No. I’m good here.” Flora leaned on the rail. “It’s spectacular.”

Was it?

Izzy stared at the sky and realized it actually was pretty cool. Streaked red and orange, the colors reflected off the water and the buildings.

Flora took a slug of water. “So what’s your dream, Izzy?”

“What?”

“Your dream. What is it?”