"That’s Sarah," the driver said. "She’s celebrating her first birthday without her father. He used to drive this cab."
Elias looked at the driver, then back at the woman. A strange feeling of recognition washed over him. He remembered this bakery from his childhood; he hadn't been here in twenty years.
Elias felt a pull he couldn’t explain. He stepped out of the taxi and walked into the bakery. When Sarah looked up and saw him, her eyes widened. "Elias? From the old neighborhood?"
He climbed into the back seat, which smelled faintly of old leather and peppermint. The driver was an older man with silver hair and a cap pulled low over his eyes. He didn’t ask for an address. "Long night?" the driver asked, his voice like gravel. "The longest," Elias sighed. "I'm heading to 42nd and—"