Anya was suddenly overcome with an impulse. She wanted to scream, to grab Li Wei by the collar and shout, 'You're a liar! That wasn't a magic trick at all!'
'Most magic props leave behind a chemical smell after they're used, but that coin you bent had no smell at all!'
'Suka Bulie! Just tell me the secret already!'
But the thought only lingered for a moment before she pushed it aside.
You could say Li Wei was the first person her age she'd met since arriving in New York who gave her a sense of kinship, a connection to home. It wasn't just his accented yet fluent Russian. More importantly, he was one of the few people who didn't look at her with prejudice or treat her differently.
But Li Wei's voice suddenly broke her out of her reverie.
"Um..." he said suddenly. "Your bow is crooked."
She instinctively raised a hand and quickly adjusted the black bow on her head. She had spent ages picking this one out.
