conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Special, Ones, Esther with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Special Ones'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book? End with the sentence '"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Special Ones
  Of course, I am also very interested in finding Harry, but unlike the media and the police, I have a lot of useful information on hand. Not just facts, either, but detailed insights into how his mind works and what his weaknesses are. This is why I head for the part of town where the lowlifes hang out—​the thieves, the drug dealers, the criminals.
  I drive slowly around the litter-strewn streets, getting out occasionally to stare down a dark alley or to ask people if they've seen a dodgy-looking guy who seems as if he's hiding from something. One drunk laughs in my face. "You just described ninety percent of the people around here," he says.
  Eventually I come to an empty doorstep—​the very one where I first spotted Harry, all those years ago. He hadn't looked like much back then, sitting there with another wasted guy, both of them drugged-up and dirty—​but he bore a strong-enough resemblance to the Harry in the photograph for me to stop and watch. When the other man said, "Pass me the bottle, Harry," it had felt like a clear sign.
  I hadn't needed to use force with Harry in the beginning. The promise of some cheap gear was enough to lure Harry out to the farmhouse, where I locked him in the changing room with a bucket of water. He was in a sorry state when I went back a week later. Battered and bruised. Shaking from the withdrawal. I stood over him and breathed in his fear. It smelled good.
  When the worst of the comedown was over, he took to work at the farmhouse better than I'd anticipated. He seemed to genuinely enjoy it—​sleeping out under the stars, eating simple food, and drinking nothing but water. After a month, he told me he wanted to stay. I remember the eagerness in his voice. His sincerity. "It's really changed me, being here."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know three more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It's then that I know I've got no chance of convincing him to stay hidden. Not over the phone, at least. My voice comes out louder and fiercer than I intend. "Well, I have to see you before you do anything. Privately, with no one else around. Once the police have got you, who knows when we'll get the chance again? There will always be people watching. I need to have at least one time when I can talk to you without someone listening in."
  On my desk, my old laptop starts to whir loudly. I glare at it and reach out to close the screen. "Tess," says Harry, and I pause, hand midair, waiting for him to continue. His breathing is loud, shallow, and I know he's battling his desire to see me with his desire to keep me safe. I've no intention of making it easy for him. "It's not a good idea—"
  I'm sure he's thinking the same thing I am. Remembering how it felt when we were pressed together on the bike. How everything had to stop before it even began. He must feel that same longing.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He must feel that same longing.. How everything had to stop before it even began. Remembering how it felt when we were pressed together on the bike. "It's not a good idea—"
  I'm sure he's thinking the same thing I am. I've no intention of making it easy for him. His breathing is loud, shallow, and I know he's battling his desire to see me with his desire to keep me safe. "Tess," says Harry, and I pause, hand midair, waiting for him to continue. I glare at it and reach out to close the screen."
  On my desk, my old laptop starts to whir loudly. I need to have at least one time when I can talk to you without someone listening in. Once the police have got you, who knows when we'll get the chance again? There will always be people watching. Privately, with no one else around. "Well, I have to see you before you do anything. My voice comes out louder and fiercer than I intend. Not over the phone, at least.It's then that I know I've got no chance of convincing him to stay hidden
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The rain is still thrumming outside and I look at Harry, wondering if he too imagines the water tank and dam and well filling up on the farm. Not that those things even exist now. The place has been bulldozed.
  But we're not here to talk about rain or water tanks. Or even the farm. Today I have news. I grab my bag and pull out an opened envelope, laying it on the table between us.
  Harry squeezes my hand and lets go. He doesn't say anything, and a moment later his chair scratches across the tiles as he stands up.
  I give him a half smile, not understanding. And then he pulls me in toward him, one arm around my back, the other still holding my hand. "You missed out last time," he murmurs. "This is to make up for it."
  Yet Harry persists in that slow, patient way of his, which has become slightly slower but no less patient since that night in the park. And before I know it, I'm part of it too. Part of the dance, part of this moment. Dancing with Harry as the rain falls around us.