“Hey,” I say, smiling at her. She raises a hand to the side of her mouth and whispers, “Ooh, I recognise you from TV.” My heart stutters. “Sorry?” She quickly settles herself on the bench beside me, carefully placing the pink binder on her lap. I can now see that it’s hand-labelled ‘Prison School’ in bright turquoise letters that clash violently with the pink background. “Yeah,” she says, eyes wide. “They sent out a fugitive alert. You didn’t know, did you?” I sigh as the other animas pretend not to be listening, but clearly are. “No, I didn’t, but I’m not surprised.”
