120.

Unable to keep herself contained in her tiny new apartment, she had ventured outside at 1:20am.

She walked 120 steps, paused, and looked up. She saw nothing but a great, expanding blackness. She continued walking.

She counted 120 parked cars, paused, and looked around. She saw nothing but a few quiet passersby enjoying the night air. She continued walking.

She counted 120 shallow breaths, paused, and looked inside of herself. She saw nothing but a wounded heart and an empty stomach.

120.

The number of miles from New York to Scranton.

(She’d MapQuested it.)

120 days away from Jim.