Chapter 2 · free to read
By 4 AM they'd counted them. Nineteen faces on Platform 9. Nineteen names now on bulletins.
Nineteen transfers punched by one hand, and he had been punching them for eleven years without once looking at the faces.
The old stair to Platform 9. Welded shut for thirty-nine years.
Last night he faced away. Tonight he was looking back.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.