Midnight in The Big Apple

The midnight train pulled into the station. A crowd of people filed off the cars of the train, luggages in hand. The doors began to close.
"Wait," a small voice said. The doors reopened and a small figure took one small step off the train. All she had was one small carry-on bag. Everything about her was small. The figure took a few more steps and paused seeming to consult a watch, but there was nothing on her wrist. She went outside and hailed a taxi.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"Times square, please."
A few minutes passed and then she was there. She paid the driver and got out. Then, she stood there. Standing, standing for over an hour. And then, she started walking again. She crossed street after street, building after building, never pausing, never bumping into any of the many people that were still on the street. Finally, the stranger stopped. She turned to look at the seemingly empty building. One step up, then two. All the way up to the top step of the stoop. She set her bag down and quietly, noiselessly, sat down. Minutes passed, then hours. She never moved. When everyone else looked at the quiet building, no one was there. But when Sean looked out the window of the building, he saw the angel that had left his life empty.