“Did you change your mind about coming to New York?” he says. “No,” I reply. “But if the offer still stands in a few years . . . ” “It will always stand,” he says, quietly. “Thank you.” I pause, wanting to say this right. “Thank you for everything, Snow. You helped me, when I didn’t want it or ask for it. When I wasn’t grateful or even deserving.” “You were deserving,” Snow says, his eyes as clear and piercing as ever. “I saw that from the start.” I cross the mats and embrace him one last time. I hope I can give that sort of hug to someone, someday. “Cat asked me to come to Chicago with her,”
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