Lea was already late, running down the sidewalk like a marathon sprinter in the last leg of a race. She dodged around screaming babies in strollers, men in ironed suits in the midst of an argument, and bright yellow fire hydrants. She yelled a quick “Sorry!” or an “Excuse me!” as she weaved her way through the crowds of people hustling to enter the sanctity of their cars after work. Los Angeles at five in the afternoon was not a friendly place.