Tay walked into the pink sky over Grant Park. She followed the dogs across Michigan Avenue,and into the park. Her Xolos' breath showed like animated cobwebs in front of their faces as they trotted together, investigating, over the damp lawn. They did not seem to mind the cold air. Tay tightened her scarf. She turned south towards Balbo and the sculptures in the park. She sometimes could not believe that she lived in the center of a huge city, amid millions of people, thousands of miles away from where she lived, used to live.