Minutes later, the train stops at Forty-Second Street, close to Times Square, where everything changed. The doors remain open too long, and I shudder thinking that man in the skull mask could be any of these passengers filing in. He could think I recognize his eyes and need to finish this job. Choosing to embrace possibilities like this by not retreating home doesn’t make things less terrifying, but all I can do is hope for the best today.

As we’re approaching Union Square, I look up and down the car. People are holding on to the poles while reading a newspaper or on their phone. Someone else is dozing off, their head snapping back upright as their chin touches their chest. Others are sitting quietly, traveling from A to B or even B back to A. But I really thought there would be some kind of show, like young people turning the train into a jungle gym as they swing around the poles and flip around while blasting music. We reach our stop, and before I step onto the platform, I wait one extra moment to see if a show is about to begin, but nothing.

“First thoughts on your first ride?” Orion asks as we climb the stairs.

“More ordinary than I thought. Where were all the dancers? Is it too early?”

“Nah, I’d see them on the train rides to school a lot of mornings. That really pissed off people. Maybe the usual performers were out doing their thing last night.” He squeezes my arm as we leave the station. “I bet you’ll catch a show on the way back.”

“Hopefully.”

I can’t imagine I would be heartbroken on my deathbed by not having seen people dancing on the train, but it’s one of those daily occurrences in New York I’ve been imagining for so long that it feels weird to not have been granted that instantly. Especially when time is so limited. It just shows that no matter what’s happening in your life, the world doesn’t only spin for you.

However, Union Square is a breath of fresh air. There are chess players sitting on top of crates, basking in the sun. One woman has the biggest smile on her face as she walks eight dogs. Two women are holding hands and coffees as they enter this little park. That could actually be a nice place for a cozy, autumnal photo shoot. I can already picture myself standing on a bench with the flaps of my gray wool coat thrown open, revealing a white tee and . . . I stop planning the outfit I won’t be able to wear this fall.

While waiting at the crosswalk, we stand at the curb and I stare at the sky and watch an airplane flying over us. I can’t wait until Scarlett gets here.

“Have you ever flown before?” I ask as we cross the street.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”