No one travels without purpose. Those who are lost wish to be lost. - Gabrielle Zevin

The baby, a girl, is born at 6:24 a.m.
She weighs six pounds, ten ounces.
The mother takes the baby in her arms and asks her, "Who are you, my little one?"
And in response, this baby, who is Liz and not Liz at the same time, laughs.

To return to the city of one's birth always felt like retreat.

They didn't put a scarlet letter on her chest, but they didn't need to. That's what the Internet is for.