Leila reached inside the hat and pulled out a never-ending multi-coloured scarf. Red and green and yellow and blue and purple and orange. Her father was obviously trying to distract them from the idea of the monkey running scared outside. Classic misdirection, Leila thought.
“Hurry now!” Mr Vernon added, snapping his fingers excitedly. “A good magician should never be caught unprepared when the audience arrives.”
In the darkness of a train yard, somewhere on the far edge of town, a shadowy figure emerged from a thick curtain of fog. The person looked back once before dashing alongside several rows of empty train tracks.
Now, if you’re anything like me, you might flinch when imagining a shadowy figure emerging from a nighttime fog in a nearly abandoned train yard lit only by distant streetlights. But you needn’t to worry here. It was merely a skinny boy named Carter Locke.