She's never heard of a place called Darrow. She says the name over in her head a couple of times - Darrow, Darrow, Darrow - and if she were home, she might have painted it up on the wall next to Max's dripping sun. It feels unusual in her mouth, not a word she's ever rolled off her tongue before and she finds the corners of her mouth twisting up the tiniest bit despite herself.

He keeps looking around like he's looking for something, maybe someone. And he looks a little like Rudy does when they're stealing, all quick darting glances like they're being watched. She hasn't done anything wrong except get off the train in the wrong place, so she doesn't know what he's being so paranoid about.

"Packet?" she echoes, following the line of his finger to the booth. No one had given her any kind of packet when she arrived in Molching. All she had was the clothes on her back and the few possessions she carried in her suitcase, but now she carries even less. Just her book and Papa's accordion, all that's left to her. "What kind of packet?"

There's a grown up sitting behind the booth and Liesel is sure she hasn't done anything to be in trouble for but she still feels on edge. Years ago she'd wanted to run away and the only reason she changed her mind is because of Papa, because of Mama and Rudy and Max. But all of them are dead and there's no reason not to run away anymore. She flicks her eyes back to the boy; he's thin and he doesn't look very tough. She could probably shove him and run, she thinks, get out of here before any more adults find her.

But she is curious. "What things do you know?" she asks, lifting her chin a little, challenging him.