Right after breakfast on a Thursday morning, when she should have been packing her lunch and running to catch the number 10 bus to downtown, she went instead up the stairs to the roof and stood in the April breeze.
The air felt good against her skin. A promise of spring, yet a leftover hint of winter’s crispness.
She leaned into it. Before she knew it, the air lifted her. It was slight, but she somehow sensed that it was not an accident.