I opened the top dresser drawer and took out my passport, my birth certificate, and the red folder Frank had given me an hour earlier.

I packed four suits, three blouses, my running shoes, and my work coats into the suitcase and zipped the frame shut with one steady pull.

When I carried the bag downstairs, Daniel was standing at the front door with his arms locked over his chest.

“If you walk out that door tonight, Mariana, you don’t get to come crawling back when you find out how hard the city is on a woman alone,” he said.

“I’m not coming back,” I said.