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“Excusein closer “Let me by”

“I’ve heard stories about island rats You can tell me if they’re true”

I lift onto my toes to sprint ahen a hand comes down on my shoulder

“There you are, darling So sorry I’m late”

I don’t know this voice, a low tenor with the clipped, stylish vowels of the classes I only see when delivering orders to their expensive hotel rooms

I stiffen under his fingers, which are light but steady on my shoulder Now there are two of the the handle of the paring knife I borrowed froentlehten

“Not necessary,” he whispers

I turn to look at hi his eyes His lips are sly and twisted into a smile over teeth far finer than my dockworker friend’s Thisles in his suit that reeks of money

Apparently, the dockworker has the sairl? I don’t think she is”

“I would never accuse you of thinking, entle it once in the middle of the dockworker’s forehead “I shouldn’t worry it’ll be a proble entirely”

The dockworker blinks once—twice—so slowly I notice his stubby blond eyelashes, and then he otten hoalk on land

“Good day, then” The gentleertips, and I’ve barely time to process what happened before we’re out of the alley and back onto the main street

“Well” I clear my throat, eentle to see in his eyes whether he did that out of the goodness of his heart or if he expects so in return This is Albion, after all “Thank you for your help Good-bye”

“I’d like to walk you horacing any more questionable streets with your presence”

I straighten ht one out from under his hand, and look him full in the face His eyes are dark, his features fine, al jawline “With all due respect, sir, I’eyou where I live”

His smile broadens “Then I insist you let me buy you supper, and ill part a

s friends with no knowledge of the other’s residence”

I open my mouth to inform him I’ve no time for supper, but before I can, he takes off his hat and I find old of his hair I have never seen such hair in my life It’s like the sunshine of my childhood is concentrated there

A door opens beside us, and his hand once again presses against my back My feet trip forward of their own accord—traitor feet, what’s happening?—and suddenly we’re sitting in a wararlic and spice My stoer and the other with renewed longing for home

“I thought this would do nicely,” he says, and his smile reet when he’d done so particularly clever “Why did you travel from Melei to attend school?”

“I never said I was a student And how do you knohere I’m from?”

“The beguiling way your ives away your island home”