But how did they keep finding me? It couldn’t be just a matter of luck, not in New York City. Out of habit, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out Stevie’s phone. That was it—the phone! It was on. The Suits had to be tracking it, so I quickly turned it off.

Right then a train came rumbling into the station and screeched to a halt. Its doors opened, and I knew I had to get out of there, so I ran and got on. Just as I turned around to look through the train window, three Suits busted through the same metal door as I had.

They were looking down at their phones, obviously trying to track me, but they seemed confused since I had turned off Stevie’s phone. Then one of them glanced over at the train and began sprinting toward it.

He was running straight for my door. If he made it on, I had no way of escaping him. He was only ten feet away, then five feet, then two feet, then SLAM!! the Suit crashed into the closed doors and fell to the ground. I looked down out of the window and saw him holding his knee in pain, the big baby.

I watched the two uninjured Suits glare at the train as it pulled out of the station. I knew I had only so much time until they got their act together. I had to get my bearings.

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