Two years after Day Zero, Marcus stood at the entrance to the subway station where everything had started, now transformed into a quiet memorial space, marble plaques lining the walls with names of everyone lost during those first terrible six days.
Elena walked beside him, eleven years old now, taller than she'd been that first night, though the careful, thoughtful way she observed everything around her remained unchanged from the nine-year-old who'd waited at Mrs. Hart's house for her father to arrive.
"It looks different," Elena said, studying the renovated entrance. "Peaceful, almost."
"Feels strange calling anything about this place peaceful," Marcus said. "But yeah, I know what you mean."
They walked down into the station, the platform itself preserved carefully, informational di
