— being pulled, arm up and hurting, the cast hard and fresh against her skin. Her mother dragging her and pushing the stroller down a dark street, trying to run, gasps of pain. Shouts from behind, looking and pushing and dragging, fast and faster, clothes torn, no shoes. Then a subway, down the stinking steps and through the turnstiles, onto a train. From dark to light, plastic seats, empty. Paulie screaming in the stroller, naked apart from his diaper, her mother’s feet in the middle of the carriage trying to push the doors closed as the PA announced a delay. Her father’s legs coming down the stairs, jeans and big red boots, black laces, his face, twisted in on itself as he screamed her name and vaulted the barriers. The doors closing, his hands beating against the glass. Blackness outside as they entered a tunnel, her mother on the floor holding her as she cried, the—