By the time Timothy York and Ivan Gray's plane landed in Novayork, it was already late at night.
The next morning, a heavy snow began to fall across the city.
Early in the morning, Ivan Gray braved the snow to go out and handle some business.
By the time he finished his business, it was nearly noon. When he rushed to a Grellada restaurant on The Meridian, Timothy York was already sitting alone at a table by the window, quietly gazing at the slick, wet streets and the snow dancing in the air.
Perhaps because of the snow, there were only a handful of customers in the restaurant.
Ivan Gray scanned the room. Not seeing the person he'd expected, he walked briskly to the table and sat down across from Timothy York.
If he wasn't mistaken, Timothy York had likely been sitting here since early in the morning.
But as Ivan Gray watched the snow outside, he felt a flicker of apprehension.
"It's snowing so hard. She's not going to stand us up, is she?"
