But how, he wondered. He couldn’t just tell her to leave. To begin with, it sort of defeated the purpose of risking his life and bringing her home to save her if he was going to toss her out the next morning to be picked up by a patrol. And once they found her, they might—no, they would—figure out his role in all this, and from there it was two clicks to him joining her, wherever she was going. A little girl like that—they probably wouldn’t need to keep her more than five minutes in an interrogation cell. Which wasn’t so bad, considering they said nobody lasted an hour in the cells—another stupid rumour someone had dreamed up, since Albert knew for a fact that nobody had ever come back from the cells to tell anyone anything. No, the best way, the only way out of this was to keep her safe and hidden from sight, and hope—pray—that nobody found out. He didn’t have to do it for long, he reasoned with himself, just until he could return her to that lot without anyone ever realizing she’d left her natural habitat.

But even as he thought it, his heart sank at the prospect. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go back into that lot; in fact, he was very sure he didn’t want to go back into the lot. The more he thought about it, the less appealing the lot seemed as a prospect. The last visit had unearthed homicidal children. Who knew what other treasures it had to offer? Then he remembered that the only reason he was contemplating going back to the lot was because he’d decided to offer board and lodging to the ringleader of the aforementioned homicidal children, and he decided to stop thinking because it didn’t seem to be doing much for him apart from giving him a headache.

Coffee, he said to himself. What he needed was some more coffee, and breakfast too, while he was at it. The girl would want to eat too, he was sure. Dinner last night had left him with a profound respect for her appetite, if not her table manners. She’d probably been starving. Who knew when she had last had a decent meal? Maybe never. He sighed. Poor thing, he thought. She’d never had a chance, or a choice in the matter—just another outcast, cursed to be born an Outlier. No way back from there.

He frowned. No time for this now—he needed to focus on getting her out of here. Perhaps he’d have a little talk with her when she woke up. Maybe she’d tell him something that would make things easier. Maybe.