After determining that the padlock was indeed securing the door from the outside, making it impossible to open, Concordia started to grope her way carefully around the inner boundary of the box car. If the rats could come in and out, there had be openings. Besides, there was that flash of eyes she’d seen, just after the Durands had left. Something from outside had peered through a crevice. Larger than a rat—a raccoon, perhaps?
The boxcar had deteriorated into unusable condition long ago, left to rust into obscurity. The weakest areas seemed to be near the floor. After a great deal of groping around, Concordia found one especially corroded section, where more light came through.
With only a passing care for her skirts—she was already filthy—she positioned herself in front of the weak sect
