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intentions are not malevolent.”
    Thirteen years ago his case had stumped everyone from police to social services. No one, not relatives, friends, neighbors, or teachers, came forward to claim him. Social services concluded that his family had just moved to New York. The fire destroyed all evidence of his origins. They could not trace his next of kin. He was placed into foster care until someone claimed him.
    On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Seth had prayed that someone would come for him before midnight. It was the last time he ever made a plea to a higher power. The next day he was discharged from the foster home. His disappointment festered until he wanted nothing to do with the people who abandoned him. Now, someone was laying claim to a part of his past he had put to rest.
    “Are we related?” Seth asked.
    “Definitely not.”
    He was pleased to hear the news.
    “A cup of tea would be appreciated,” Lelani prompted. “It is freezing outside.”
    “This is New York. You might be psychotic for all I know.”
    “You would be dead by now,” she said, calm.
    Seth wasn’t sure if she was joking.
    Joe returned from the street, shivering.
    “Poor lady—the paramedics said she isn’t going to make it,” Joe said. “That guy in the Stetson took it really hard. I think he knew her.”
    “The only thing that guy’s upset about is his lost income, you yokel. He’s her pimp. Are you even living in the real world?”
    “What’s the real world, Seth? One where you never lift a finger to help someone else? You barely help yourself. You’re the most negative … Who’s she?” Joe asked, pointing to the girl.
    “Joe, meet Lelani. We met in Canada a long time ago.”
    “It was not Canada…”
    “Look Seth, we need to finish our talk—” Joe said.
    “Sorry, dude. We were just heading out for some tea.”
    “Tea? You can’t just—”
    “Lelani came a long way just to see me, and I won’t be rude. We’ll talk later.”
    “But…”
    Seth grabbed his coat and led Lelani down the stairs.
    2
    Fresh snow rushed from the sky to join its graying counterpart on the streets of Alphabet City. People huddled in their overcoats, trying to keep nature’s cold bite from their collars. Seth tried to lose the girl, but she kept pace with him.
    “Is it far?” Lelani asked.
    “Is what far?”
    “The café.”
    “Café?”
    “The tea?”
    “We’re not going for tea. I just said that to get Joe off my ass. I’m picking up some … uh, supplies.”
    They arrived at a tenement on Avenue C. Two young girls were building a snow wall around the stoop.
    “Hey, Mr. Picture Man,” one of them said. She raised her hand for a high-five slap.
    “Hey, Ms. Sassafras, what’s happening?” Seth obliged.
    “When you gonna take my picture and make me famous?”
    “Caitlin, you don’t want to be famous. You want to read books and work in an office. And don’t tell anyone you have money or they’ll all come a-borrowing.”
    “I already got a moms, Mr. Picture Man. What I need you for if you ain’t gonna make me a star?”
    “Just keeping you honest. Building a fort, huh?”
    “Them stupid boys from the projects come ’round and throw snowballs at us. We just minding our own business.”
    “Why are you even out here in the cold?” Seth asked.
    Caitlin gazed at her boot. She ground the snow beneath her toe.
    “Your mom?” Seth guessed.
    Caitlin looked up. “I hate it when she all shaking and throwing up.”
    “Is your mother ill?” Lelani asked the girl.
    Caitlin remained quiet. Seth felt pressure to say something right, but nothing came into his head. He pulled out five dollars. “Here. Take your friend to the pizza shop. Have a slice, play video games.”
    Caitlin and her friend were halfway down the block when she turned around and shouted, “When I’m famous, I’ma buy you a limo, Mr. Picture Man!”
    “What color, Sassafras?” he returned, but the girls were long gone.
    Lelani looked confused.