In the moments before Esther's return to the world, Billy Dresner III was slouching towards the waterfront, past crumbling tenements, alleyways and whores, a stolen black Labrador trotting at his side. According to the tag, its name was Maxie. But no matter.
By the derelict warehouses of the Hudson, Billy knelt and killed the dog with a single bite. He fed in a guilty frenzy, trains rumbling in the distance, until he was snagged by a sense of movement far beyond the city and across the cold dark ocean.
Could it be?
Billy rose, face lifted to the heavens. Yes, it had to be. This was it. The moon silvered him in a seraphic glow, his shorn hair glinting, and he stared into the night, a bloodied masculine angel, hardly daring to believe.
Over 3,000 miles away, north of London's Maida Vale, a girl was born who, according to the midwife, had 'two arms, two legs, one head'. When the slippery livid child released her first roaring breath, Billy knew the world had changed.
He stood by the crumbling docks, gazing up at a hundred thousand million stars.
She was back.
Somewhere on earth, she was back. Centuries of longing were coming to a close, a prospect that filled him with happiness and dread. Tears glittered in his eyes. He blinked and let them fall, promising himself that this time he would be kind to her.