Lance's POV
Lance stood by the edge of the food stall and kept his weight on one leg while he tried to steady his breathing.
The sun pressed down hard on Midtown as people moved around him in steady lines, heading in and out of shops, crossing streets, and filling the space with noise that did not stop.
He kept looking around for Marybeth, but she had not come back yet, so he stayed where he was and tried not to draw attention to himself.
When he lifted his gaze, the screens above caught his eyes.
Times Square still stood the way he remembered it, and he found himself staring longer than he should because he had been here once before when he was sixteen, back when Malcolm brought him through and the place was packed and loud and full of light.
It still looked spectacular, but it was different now.
