He wasn’t a saint, though; sometimes it was all he could do not to just pull Willow into his arms and start kissing her. And he prayed with everything he had that she’d get Alex out of her system soon and see what was so blindingly obvious to him. Because thinking of her dream – of the whole sequence of events that had led him to her, spiralling back through his life for years – Seb couldn’t believe that fate had brought them together only to be friends. It was clear to him that he and Willow were meant to be, not just because they were both half-angel, but because of who they both were, their personalities. It was as if their souls had been crying out for each other their whole lives.

Seb knew if Willow never felt the same, he’d deal with it somehow – being in her life as a brother was a lot better than not being in her life at all. It was becoming more difficult by the day, though. He’d never have dreamed he could fall more in love with his half-angel girl. But actually being with Willow in person, feeling the effortless depth of their connection that was like nothing he’d ever experienced – and knowing that it could still be so much more; a whole world more, if she’d only open her eyes and see it too – Seb let out a breath as the train started to slow. He wasn’t sure if it made things better or worse that he thought he’d caught glimpses of attraction from her sometimes; thoughts so fleeting, it was as if she had no control over them. On the whole, he thought it made it worse, given how much she was in love with Alex. And it definitely made it harder for him to be brotherly towards her.

That’s exactly what you’re going to do though, he told himself. Until she tells you she wants something different, you are only her brother. He glanced down at Willow’s red-gold hair, her face. She’d see it for herself someday, he thought. She had to.

She just had to.

The train reached Zócalo station; the doors unfolded with a pneumatic hiss. “I guess this is it,” murmured Willow, her forehead creased with apprehension.

“This is it,” agreed Seb, pushing his thoughts away.

They jostled off the car. Everyone in the world seemed to be going to the Zócalo. Alex and the others had exited further down; the group rejoined each other near the station stairs. As they started up, they could hear a thunder of voices chanting: “El DF is dying! Funds for doctors, not angels! El DF is dying! Funds for doctors, not angels!”