Dorjan Bones waved his mother goodbye with some regret. She'd driven him to the station and helped him find a trolley for his things but she would not see him onto the train, nor even to his platform. His heart racing a little, the tall boy pushed his trolley along, weaving through the crowds at King's Cross, clutching his ticket tightly.
This was it, this was the start of something more, something better than his previous life. There had never been much to smile about at home, and now things were going to get better. Dorjan regretted the relationship he had with his mother, she seemed to want to distance herself from her only son. Dorjan had never known why until his letter came by Owl. And then she'd distanced herself further.
Shrugging off the negative thoughts as best he could Dorjan began counting the platforms, reading the plastic numbers above each one. Soon he'd found 9 and close by, 10. But not 9 and 3 quarters and he looked around desperately for a clue. How was he to find his platform?



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