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“Oh my God, is she okay?” Her hand went to her throat. Deborah was a little older than her and very tiny.

“Yeah. George heard her scream and got there before any real damage was done. The cops came and took him away, but you know how that goes.” He swallowed the last bite of muffin. “The sad part is Deb took off. The temperatures are going down and I hope she comes back.”

So many people over the years had died from hypothermia. December through March were the scariest months of the year for their people. She looked down at Parker’s thin sweater. Holes had worn into the elbows. He still looked handsome with his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and his fingerless gloves, but being homeless wasn’t about making a fashion statement. It was about survival.

“Parker, do you need anything? I can get you stuff. I have people who . . . if there’s something you need, would you tell me?”

He smiled sweetly. “I don’t need anything, Scout. Got everything I need right here.” He patted his bag. She understood his pride wouldn’t let him take much more than a muffin from her.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.”

She smiled. That was Parker, always willing to give her anything he could. He was the best friend she’d ever had. Her only friend.

“I’m gonna be busy in the next few weeks,” she said. “If you can manage it, do you think you can get down to the tracks to check on Pearl for me?”

He sighed. He hated the tracks. It was where his mother had died not long after losing his father. Parker’s family’s descent into the bowels of Folsom had been a swift and sad one. She hated asking him to go there.

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her so long as you promise not to go there in the dark by yourself. I know you. You won’t be able to stay away. I get that you’re busy with your job and all, but you can’t keep going down there when it’s dark, Scout. It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be down there at all. Wait for me and I’ll go with you, but only when it’s light, okay?”

She nodded. Unable to voice a promise she wasn’t sure she’d keep.

Something seemed so final in the way Parker hugged her good-bye. Her hand ran over his wool cap and she stared into his soft green eyes, so different from Lucian’s. She wished she had some meaningful thing to say in that moment, but all she could think of was, “Stay warm.”

As she walked back to Patras she didn’t have her earlier pep. Taking the longer way back, she kept her head down. Unused to walking through Folsom during this time of day, the crowds were stifling. Everyone seemed to be rushing off to one place or another. What must it be like to live such an urgent life? Scout never had anywhere to be except for where she chose to go.

Crossing into the more prominent section of the city she tried to blend in as best she could with the finely dressed population. She appreciated seeing others in sneakers and jeans, but no one else’s clothes seemed quite as tattered as hers.

On Gerard, she debated taking the service entrance into the hotel. Looking up at the repeat of yesterday’s rich-and-famous parade of limos, luxury cars, and guests, she decided that was exactly what she’d do.

Scout walked quickly through the crowd, careful to avoid the fancy red runner and its gold tassels. There was a lot going on, various languages being spoken, carts of luggage being wheeled, cars idling, guests checking in with the attendants.

Someone shouted. Head down, she kept walking. As she was turning the corner some brute grabbed her arm and she was nearly yanked off her feet.

Her arm jerked, wrenching her hand from the pocket of her sweatshirt and she turned ready to attack. “What the fuck?”

Lucian, dressed in his long wool coat and a tailored black pinstripe suit, stared down at her. His jaw ticked and he wasn’t blinking. “Evelyn.”

She relaxed. “Jesus, Lucian, you scared the shit out of me.”

He quickly looked around and then took her hand and pulled her toward the front of the hotel.

“What are you doing?” she hissed and dug her feet in, but he was much stronger than her. “I can’t go in that way. I look like crap. People will stare.”

“And whose fault is that?” he snapped. “I spent thousands of dollars on a new wardrobe for you not twenty-four hours ago, yet here you are walking around looking like you’re homeless. Where the hell’s the coat I bought you?”

And that, apparently, was her limit. Scout yanked her arm free and stomped her foot. “Stop! I’m not some little kid you can just boss around. I’ve been taking care of myself longer than you’ve probably been on your own. I never had a dad and I don’t need one now.”

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