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I sit in the back of a town car as my hired driver weaves in and out of Boston’s streets. He could’ve easily taken me back to my hotel. However, I didn’t want him to. I need to think, and sometimes if I’m moving, I think better. I’m not idiotic enough to believe that simply by driving around in the back of a car, I’m going to find my stepfather, Anzor, but if it were to happen, it would make my life that much easier.