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I find Phlox waiting for her train at the end of the platform, listening to music, her hair more bluish in the dawn light. She notices me standing next to her. As I expect, she ignores me, which I admit, she has every right to do.

"I've thought of a title for your book," I say.

Phlox continues to ignore me, but I can tell she's listening despite the earphones.

"It's perfectly obvious," I continue. "A bit of a clique but it'll work nicely."

Phlox says, "I can't hear you."

"Yes, you can."

She takes her buds out. "You're an asshole."

"Yep."

Phlox doesn't hold back, "I didn't deserve that."

"No, you didn't."

"I was stupid and naïve to expect any... decency from a complete stranger."

"Yes, you were," I tell her. "And I was wrong to take out my anger on someone as..."

"As what?"

I search for the right words, "As nice as you. I guess."

Phlox remains silent.

"You're trying to track down who Libby's ex-boyfriend is, right." I ask.

Phlox shakes her head. It's not a denial, but more of an outburst of resentment.

I press on. "Is it Silvertroll?"

"Maybe," she says.

"Then you and I are after the same thing."

"Is it true, about your son?"

I nod.

"What was his name?"

"Julian," I say as the train arrives. The word comes freely out of my mouth, without choking or burning my lungs.

The train rolls to a stop and opens its doors, Phlox steps aboard. She sees me remain on the platform, so steps back out. She asks, "What is the title of my book going to be?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I jump aboard the train and say, "Troll hunters."

Just as the doors close, Phlox steps back in, her nose twitching with disgust. "I don't know about that."

"Sleep on it," I tell her, holding on to the railing as the train begins to move.

"It doesn't have anything to do with what the story is about," she says.

"Where do I find her?"

"I know where Libby works."

I'm aghast and impressed at the same time. "You're a stalker."

It is a short train journey to Redlands Shopping Centre, but by the time we arrive at the station, disembark and enter the warm artificial atmosphere of the shopping centre I got to listen to Phlox explain her story. A mystery thriller about a girl, her secret admirer and a train station that doesn't exist.

I deliberately chose the quiet booth in the indoor café, opposite the jewellery store.

We sit and order drinks.

"How about, Hunting Stalkers?"

"I don't know about that," says Phlox.

"What's wrong with it?" I counter. "How about, The girl in the red stilettos." I point to the jewellery store.

"It sounds a little tacky."

"No, it doesn't" I'm a little cut by her reaction. "You must have a title. Why are you so precious and self-conscious about it. Come on, what is it? If it's bad, tough luck."

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