I slip a hand into my pocket and glance at the empty hallway. Walt and Miss Jones have disappeared. Ezekiel’s low voice echoes behind me. “She doesn’t take to you.” “The feeling is mutual.” Sort of. I take to her body. If that counts. “Should I tell them there’s a change of plans?” Ezekiel arches a bushy grey eyebrow. His chin is as pointy as his nose which protrudes noticeably and is a little crooked thanks to a fight he’s never told me about. “Change of plans?” I frown. He blinks steadily at me as if I should know. As if he doesn’t have the energy or the inclination to spell it out. “Why
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