Chapter 20 - The Train West
The Amtrak station at Union Station was crowded with commuters rushing through the morning rush hour, carrying briefcases and coffee cups, their minds fixed on board meetings and spreadsheets.
I stood near Platform 4, wearing a dark wool coat, my suitcase resting against my boots.
In my pocket, the silver hip flask felt heavy and cool against my ribs. Around my right thumb, the red thread Lily had tied was still knotted tight, a bright streak of color against my skin in a world made entirely of gray concrete and steel.
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The train whistle blew—a long, deep, melancholy sound that echoed off the vaulted iron arches of the station roof.
I picked up my bag, stepped onto the metal stairs of the railcar, and didn't look back once as the doors slid shut behind me, carrying me away from the city where debts never died, toward a horizon that finally belonged to us.
