Maya’s POV
The more I walked, the louder the platform became.
Announcements echoed overhead, sharp and metallic, bouncing through the air like they were trying to make up for the lack of music or laughter. The smell of oil and metal hung thick so different from the clean, perfumed air of the hotel I’d just left.
My suitcase bumped against my leg as I stood in line, holding the train ticket like it was some kind of insult written on paper.
A train ticket.
To San Francisco.
Two and a half days of travel.
Three, if I were unlucky.
I’d smiled politely when the hotel attendant handed it to me that morning, pretending not to care. Pretending it didn’t sting. Pretending it wasn’t weird that *Liam’s girlfriend, the woman who survived an island with him…*was taking a train while he flew pr
