The train should not have existed.
Its silver exterior reflected the abandoned station lights as though it had emerged from another time. Dust covered the tracks, yet the wheels gleamed without a trace of rust.
Amelia stood motionless.
The little girl inside the carriage watched her without fear. She wore a navy blue coat several sizes too large and held the framed photograph carefully against her chest.
“My grandfather has been waiting for you,” she repeated.
Damian stepped in front of Amelia.
“Stay behind me.”
The child tilted her head.
“You always say that.”
His expression changed.
“You know who I am.”
She smiled.
“I know everyone who matters.”
Lucas quietly drew his pistol.
The girl’s eyes shifted to the weapon.
“My grandfather says frightened people carry guns because t
