TITLE: Rossio 59
GENRE: YA - Historical
Antonio wove through the crowd, eyes alert for the best target. Maybe a suitcase, not too big. Not one belonging to a haggard refugee stumbling off the train from Madrid, or to a mother with clinging, crying children. No. Better to find one owned by a man with a smart suit and hat, who was certainly better off than Antonio and his grandmother would ever be.
All along the platform, men handed bags out the open doors, calling "Make way.” Beside them, tired passengers and grumpy children climbed down.
Antonio’s foot hit a pair of glasses, the lenses still intact. They skittered ahead of him. No owner in sight. Antonio bent down and slid them into a pocket. They’d be worth a few escudos.
Further along, among the jumble of luggage on the platform, a small leather suitcase lay on its side. Not too new, and unattended. A 17-year-old could carry it out of the station without attracting attention. Antonio knelt beside it, pretending to adjust his shoe, and gripped the handle. He started to stand, then froze.
From a few yards away, a slim girl about his age stared at him. Her clothes were travel-worn but stylish, and thick, shoulder-length hair framed a pale face. Her eyes narrowed.
Merda. It wasn’t even her bag. Antonio set the suitcase upright, as if that had been his plan all along, and pushed himself to a standing position. The girl tossed her head, still glaring. She wasn’t buying it.