I saw a beautiful, expansive view of not only Brooklyn but the whole city. Down below it all, though, I noticed something nobody else seemed to see—the projects, the basketball court in the center, the boys standing around in strategic locations. I thought of Gio. The last time I’d heard from him was at the beginning of my senior year. After I became a columnist, the response time between letters grew longer and longer, until they eventually sputtered out and he never answered my last one. What would he say about this place, I wondered.
