A man was leaning against the car door.I hadn't seen Ethan in more than half a year, and he was so thin he barely looked like himself. His once handsome, proud face was hollow, and his black trench coat hung loose on him. He didn't have an umbrella. He just let the fine rain fall on his hair and shoulders.When he saw me come out, he didn't charge at me like last time.He just stood there like a kid who'd done something wrong, watching me carefully, as if one step forward might shatter the vision in front of him.I stopped about ten feet away from him."Can I help you, Mr. Green?"When he heard me call him "Mr. Green," he flinched hard.He slowly pulled a manila envelope out of his pocket and held it out with both hands. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Aria, I'm not here to make you come back to New York."I didn't take it. "What is this?""It's the transfer agreement for the Green Group's art foundation, and... a statement from St. Patrick's Cathedral," he said with difficulty
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