I grab his sweatshirt with reluctance and throw it on over my head. “Says the boy wearing the same shirt he had on last time.”

“You’re the most recognizable girl in the city. No one’s looking for me.” He scrutinizes my new look in his sweatshirt, which is so long it hits my knees. He’s once again expressionless. “You’re breathing loudly.”

His perception throws me. I’m paralyzed for several seconds before I dig through my bag, grab my inhaler, and breathe in the puff of cold mist.

He reaches out and pulls the hood over my head as I toss my inhaler back into my bag.

“Keep your head down.” He grabs my hand, which feels fragile in his calloused grip, and I follow him down the last flight of stairs.

“Where are we going?” I still don’t trust him. Whatever his plan is, I need a backup that includes running far away from him the second things look sketchy.

“The ‘L.’”

“Then where?”

“You’re going home.” He pauses at the stairwell exit. “You ready?”

I nod. He puts his head down, tightens his grip on my hand, and shoves the door open.

He walks with deliberate ease, but his strides are long. I need to skip every few steps to keep up. We snake our way through a large common area toward the atrium that marks the library’s epicenter. As we pass a cluster of tables, he swipes a backpack resting on the back of a chair. His movements are so fast I do a double take to make sure he grabbed it. Without slowing our pace, he slides it over my arm and onto my back.

I glance over my shoulder, but the chair looks undisturbed. No one seems to have noticed we just stole their belongings.

He tugs on my arm so I look ahead. “Keep walking.”

Again, I shuffle to match his pace. I want to search the tables, the groups lingering near the outer edge of the room, see if I can spot the Swarm’s attackers with a new lens. But I’m too panicked about looking suspicious. Instead, I keep my head down and think casual. Nonchalant.

We circle another long table. He swipes a baseball cap lying upside down on the table. His movements are so subtle, so expert, I can’t imagine people noticing. At the same time, stealing everyone’s stuff is hardly inconspicuous.

We leave the common area and enter the hallway. He grabs my 95 hand, pulls me into a mosaic alcove, and flips me around so my back is pressed against the tiled wall. I clutch my bag, trying not to brush his shirt as he shields me. He swaps my hat for the baseball cap.

“It’s too big.”