New York City

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"You're still coming tomorrow, right?"

Henley was walking out of the lobby of a New York publishing company with a few of her coworkers. "Yes, Maya, I'm still coming," Henley reassured her.

"It's just you never come out with us," Maya said. "This'll be your first time going out with the whole team!"

"Maya, I promise you, I am perfectly free all day tomorrow, and I'll see you at 10am sharp," Henley said.

"And what about drinks tonight?" the man on Henley's other side asked. "We're heading there now."

Henley surveyed the man. He was cute, and six months ago Henley might have been interested in him, but now she only wanted a friendship. "Sorry," she replied, "but not tonight."

"You never get drinks with us after work," Maya pouted.

"I know, I know," Henley said, waving them off. "But trust me, right now, I wouldn't be much fun. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Bye Henley," Maya said, and the rest of her coworkers waved. While the group was heading to a nearby bar, Henley was walking toward the nearest subway station to go home.

Three months had passed since Henley reunited with Alyssa. Henley walked briskly along the New York streets, huddling down in her winter coat.

While Henley had loved living with her family in Boston, she also had to get back out on her own. C.O.D.E. had helped get her a couple of interviews with some New York publishing companies, and now Henley worked in the communications department of one of them. It wasn't the perfect job, but Henley was satisfied with it for the moment.

When not at work, Henley alternated between three different therapists: physical, emotional, and sleep. It took her a couple of tries to find a trauma therapist she felt comfortable with, but the search had been worth it, and between him and Henley's sleep therapist, her dreams were decreasing in both frequency and intensity.

Concerning physical therapy, Henley still walked with a slight limp, but her body was healing very nicely and she only had a month left before her therapist estimated that they could stop regular appointments.

At her job, Henley found a group of coworkers whom she actually liked and enjoyed spending time with. At first, she had avoided them outside of work completely, racing to exit the building before any post-work conversations could ensue. The thought of going out for drinks after work and then being forced to get home in the dark, slightly intoxicated, was hellish for Henley. But, at her therapist's insistence, she had agreed to meet them for a game of indoor capture the flag at a gym the next day. To her own surprise, she was genuinely looking forward to it.

One of the things Henley loved most about New York City, especially when compared to San Francisco, was the subway. She knew a lot of people would disagree, but there was something about being underground in the busy environment that made Henley feel safe. It also reminded her a bit of Boston.

The subway dropped her off just a few blocks away from her apartment, and with a strong desire to get out of the cold, the walk did not take Henley much more than five minutes to reach the warm confines of her building.

C.O.D.E. had found her the apartment. They had their own requirements; essentially, they wanted to make sure that security could easily be set up around and within the building. Henley was sure that a few of the building staff were agents, but she could never prove it. Since her move to New York, Henley hadn't had any contact with C.O.D.E., at least none that she knew of. After they checked out her apartment and installed several more locks on her door, they were gone. Thankfully, the organization was letting her get on with her life.

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