Getting around in the daylight often meant resorting to bat-form, something Conrad could (luckily) do now, and mostly of his own free will.

It wasn't that he was following Hanna. Nor was it that he was checking up on him, even if it would be completely justified considering the stupid kid's gotten into fifty billion different close-to-death situations since the moment they met.

No, this meeting was honestly coincidental, and when Conrad, seated like a bean-bag on a nearby library table, noticed the title of the book Hanna was reading, he could give no other reaction than the most unamused face he could muster and a matching tone of voice.

"Really. Access to hundreds of books from other fucking dimensions and you pick up that two-bit Target sale-shelf piece of crap."