I leave the others behind, though the dog refuses to let me go alone. And so does Beckett.
"She's my responsibility," he says, though I know his need to find her is much more than that.
Oddly, Duet doesn't argue when I tell her I'm going without her. She just meets my eyes for a moment before hugging me. "Three," she says. "Love you."
My heart clenches as I embrace her. "Love you, Two."
She giggles softly, a little girl's sound, reminding me of who she used to be. I release her, walk away, the dog on one side and Beckett on the other.
It's not far. We've returned the whole way, it seems, much farther than I expected. Beckett, the dog and I emerge from the parking garage at Macy's department store and head down West 43rd to 5th Avenue. From there, it's a straight shot all the way to 34
