Chapter 1

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She pulled one earbud out as she walked down the crowded steps to the subway platform, adjusting the length of her messenger bag strap to pull it up higher, tighter, then slid it around her body to rest it against the left of her stomach. Luz draped one hand over its pin-adorned flap, patting the catch at the bottom to make sure it was latched. Step-Mama didn't raise no fool, she thought as she tucked her dangling earbud into her collar. The platform was packed with people waiting for the next train to arrive, and she hung back by the edge of the crowd, her back to a concrete pillar. It was always busy in the afternoons. Her brown eyes darted left and right, almost black under the fluorescent lights, as she gauged the numbers in the crowd. She could push her luck a little, slip on just after most of the people had made their way onto the train, and snag herself a coveted spot beside the door. Just like eBay, she thought with a smirk.

The train pulled into the station, with a whoosh and a roar, its sulfurous dragons-breath rustling her brown hair. She hummed as she considered the thought, not entirely hating that line. I could make it work. She slipped a hand into her hand-me-down letterman's jacket and pulled a small, leather notebook from the inside pocket. She quickly scribbled the line down before it was lost in the crush of the crowd. Luz angled to her left as the riders stepped off the train and the waiting passengers rushed forward. She eyed the inside-door seat wall, watching the countdown on the little screen inside the carriage. It ticked down to '5', and she began to push forward with a grin.

Rapid footsteps echoed sharp and swift behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder as she stepped through the doors. A pale, well-dressed girl was running for the train. Luz frowned at the large bowl-shaped fisherman's hat pulled down over her head, decidedly out of place with the rest of her outfit—gray skirt and sweater under a long tan coat, huge plaid scarf wrapped around her neck, cute little black boots—but she could read the fear in her body language: how both of her hands were white-knuckled around a small purse, in the way the girl hunched as she ran, and just a glimpse of wide, red-rimmed eyes and red cheeks beneath a shiny pair of large sunglasses. Two men in dark suits pushed their way down the busy stairs and looked around, scanning the bustling platform crowd. Luz narrowed her eyes in anger. The screen flashed '1'.

"Quick!" Luz urged, reaching out for the girl to pull her into the train just as the doors snapped closed with a hiss. The girl let out a small eep as Luz tucked her against the short metal wall formed by the aisle and the seat. She leaned her left elbow on the wall between the doors and the girl's head and pressed the girl into her shadow as the subway lurched, jostling their knees together. She shuffled her feet further apart, and the girl bent her legs slightly to slide down and hide just below her shoulder, hands trembling as she clutched at the leather sleeve of Luz's coat. Luz turned her back slightly to block the view in through the window in the door and wrapped her right arm around the girl's shoulder, her hand on the back of her head, pulling her under her chin. She glared at the still-searching men over her arm as the train slid past the stairs, and they were soon swallowed by a tunnel.

The underground was suffocatingly loud, with quick flashes of blinding artificial light before the train burst out into the open air, buildings flickering past the windows as the late afternoon sun splashed golden light over her back. Luz looked down at the girl nestled in her arms—oh no, she panicked. She whispered, "Sorry," and carefully moved her right arm from around the girl's neck and moved to push away, to give her some space, but the girl moved with her, huddling close, so Luz leaned back in and placed her cheek atop the girl's ugly fisherman's hat. She smelled like lavender and coffee.

"Are you okay?" Luz asked softly, her voice pitched low. The girl nodded after a second's thought. Luz hummed and smiled, "That's good. Are you hurt?" The girl hesitated for a few heart-stopping moments before shaking her head. "Eso es bueno, I was worried," Luz's voice was a soft, comforting tone, "Can you tell me what happened?" The girl stifled a whimper and shook her head again. "That's okay, mi amiga," Luz rubbed her back gently with one hand, before noticing the notebook she still held in the other, "Está bien. Would you feel better writing me a note?" She held the small book down for the other girl to see, and a slender hand lifted it from her larger, tanned fingers. She watched as the girl flipped through, pausing here and there to look at the sketches and hand-written sentences scattered throughout, before settling on a fresh blank page. "I like your hat, by the way," Luz said with a grin and the girl snorted into her collarbone before huffing a quick laugh that sounded closer to a sob.

The Siren at the Museum (The Girl Who Sang #1)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora