He was a flood of words, almost babbling. And none of it made sense; she didn't know him, and she'd never been near an iron mine, let alone held one up . . .

But within that outpouring of words, there was an assurance. An absolute certainty. And in his heartbeat . . . although the rate had increased, it was steady, one beat after another. Whoever this boy was, he was telling the truth. He had met her. Knew her . . . at some point from now.

Toph's mouth furrowed. Her hand snaked out, grabbing his arm, hauling him forward with her, fingers tight around his wrist. She hauled him down a nearby alley and yanked him in, perching in a crouch among the garbage cans. ". . . Okay. Talk."

Explain.