The drive to 74th and Park was faster than I expected, the streets oddly clear, the city moving along with that deceptive calm that always comes right before something shifts. I stepped out onto the cobblestone at the Gallery Café and felt the chill of autumn air like an invitation to be someone else for a few hours. Oversized sunglasses, a scarf tossed over my hair, and a careful limp in my step affectations that let me breathe.

The Gallery Café sat nestled between a boutique flower shop and ...