"What the fuckin' hell--"

He was supposed to be dead.

The train accident had happened in a flash. Books had seen the smoke pouring out of the station while she was on her way to meet Conor--that fucking impossible boy--for a trip to the park.

There weren't supposed to be any survivors. He wasn't supposed to be alive...and yet, there he was, standing right in front of her on the Lodging House steps with that perpetually confused adorable smile on his face and a couple of bruises.

"CONOR!"

With half a strangled sob and half a happy scream, Books launched herself forward and hugged him as tightly as she could, burying her tear-stained face into his grubby shirt. Sobs wracked her body, and she clung onto him as if he would disappear if she let go.