My heart plummeted as I bit back rising anger. It is hard to stand your ground and politely break rules at the same time. Why hadn’t I parked Frau von Arnim with the luggage instead of shuffling everything along in the queue with us? If we lost our place I’d have to shift it all again—

The old woman reached over me with an official-looking booklet open to a smiling photograph of her own face. The ticket seller nodded and pushed the passport back.

“Apologies, madam, I didn’t realize you were together.” He smiled at her over my shoulder.

“Well, we are,” said Frau von Arnim. “Two singles for Stonehaven.” She added in a friendly way, “We are visiting my niece in Scotland.”

My face burned as the horrid man thumped our tickets with the date stamp. I paid without saying anything.

“Thank you,” said the old woman as we turned away. But she might have been talking to me.

Afterward we sat in the ladies’ waiting room, surrounded by our piles of luggage, until it was time for our train.

“What did you show that man?” I asked. I was supposed to help her with her papers, and here was something she’d kept to herself.

The old woman gave a slow, shy smile, as if she were the one who was a bit embarrassed this time. She handed over the booklet and let me look at it.

It was an ordinary British passport, more ordinary than mine, even, because mine says JAMAICA across the front below BRITISH PASSPORT. The smiling photograph pasted inside was definitely a recent picture of the person sitting next to me—at least, it wasn’t taken so long ago you couldn’t tell who it was. But the name read clearly, Jane Warner, British subject by birth.

It also said she was a musician. And it said she was born in Aberdeen, in Scotland, in 1868, ten years later than the date on Johanna von Arnim’s alien registration card.

“You can call me Jane,” said the old woman. “It’s what I call myself.”

I stared at the lying document, then looked up at the person who called herself Jane. The shy smile was gone. She watched me seriously, trusting me with a secret.

“How did you get this?” I demanded. It came out sounding very stern, and her thin shoulders cringed a little. Perhaps she was expecting me to take it away from her. That’s what they’d have done at Rushen Camp if they’d known about it.