The train rattled gently beneath my boots.
The world outside the window had warmed slightly, the sharp cold of dawn easing into something that could almost be called morning. Still empty, still quiet. A town passed in the distance—only a few rooftops, sagging under years of disuse and whatever war hadn't yet reached them. The tracks continued forward like a promise that never learned how to lie.
I was still standing at the window. Still debating.
The decision felt like a blade suspended above my chest, swaying by an invisible thread. Evelyn was two stops away. Two. That was it.
And yet… my ribs ached, my hands were barely healed, and my inventory consisted of: one plastic fruit knife, a few protein bars, and a jacket with a suspicious amount of blood on the inside lining.
Brilliant arsenal. Couldn't even rob a lemonade stand without needing backup.
I leaned my forehead against the window, the cold glass fogging as I exhaled.
She was close. But so was the point of no return.
