“Where are we going?” She whispered the question as we were being driven through the quiet early morning New York streets by the two very stoic men up front.

“I have no idea; they didn’t say. Are you nervous?” She turned to look out the tinted window while keeping her hold on my arm, where she had hers wrapped around my elbow.

“Not really. Isn’t that strange?”

“I know what you mean. I was thinking the same thing earlier.” I don’t feel this at ease ...