“That’s terrible.” Raya pressed her hand over her mouth. “Where was he all that time?”
Lily took a sip of the stew. “The maintenance crew found him when they were repairing a broken clothes rack in the cloakroom,” she said, adding a sprinkle of salt to the pot. “Coats had fallen from the rack and were scattered over the floor. Olly rolled out of the inner pocket of one of the coats. He had been in the MMD the whole time.”
“The MMD?” Q inhaled the stew’s heady aroma, salivating at the blend of garlic, chilies, and ginger.
“The Missed and Misplaced Department.” Lily cracked pepper into the pot. “It’s the Elsewhere Express’s version of the lost andfound. It includes things people long for alongside the things they’ve mislaid.”
“And because that train car is meant for storage,” Rasmus said, “it’s the one place on the train where we don’t keep frames. Without one, Olly couldn’t find the door.”
“Olly’s never been able to explain how he found his way out of the MMD but we guess he must have stumbled on a doorway by accident,” Lily added.
“Why didn’t anyone bother to look for him there?” Raya asked.
“The items in the MMD aren’t things the Elsewhere Express’s passengers have lost, Ms. Sia. They’re thoughts that board the train, worries people have when they lose their things. It isn’t a place that the train’s passengers would have any reason to visit. Until Olly was found, most passengers didn’t even know that such a place existed.”
“When Olly returned, he wasn’t quite the same.” Rasmus cast a glance back at the thin sous chef. “Luckily, we discovered that stirring pots calmed him. We don’t know why.”
“We should get going. We have a lot to discuss.” Lily climbed into the pot of stew.
The Stew, to Q’s relief, was neither scalding nor wet. Instead, it resembled a small cottage tucked deep in the woods, a place so quiet that if a tree fell, it would have been terribly ashamed of itself for making a sound. Even the fire casting shadows over the room from the stone fireplace was silent. But what the flames lacked in crackling, the fire made up for in scent. Q lowered his eyelids and took his fill of pine, cloves, and Christmas. He opened his eyes and caught the corners of Raya’s mouth lifting the slightest bit upward. She pulled them down. “Why did you change your mind?” he whispered.
“Change my mind?”
“About smiling. It’s not wrong to find things to smile about here, you know.”
“It is.” Raya took a seat on the checkered couch facing the fire.“When you can’t stay.” She turned her hand over and checked on the gold knot.
Q sat next to her, stealing a peek at it. It was slightly looser than it was at the island, but intact. “I haven’t forgotten, by the way.”
“Forgotten what?”
“That you haven’t answered my question about why you’re so desperate to get off this train.” Nor had Q forgotten what Raya’s hand had felt like when they had found each other inside the kettle. Going blind had forced him to rely on more than just his sight. His skin noticed and remembered things his eyes did not. Had the kettle not been pitch-black, his memory of her hand might have been made of nothing more than its shape, shade, and size. But his skin recalled the fear they shared and the relief they provided each other in the dark. And something else. A secret that snaked under her flesh, tensing her fingers and chilling her hands, the same secret that was always quick to tear the smallest hint of a smile from her face.
Raya set her bag on her lap and stared into the fire. “Olly must have been just like the others on this train before he got lost. He found his place. He had purpose. He was happy. Then on one random day, he lost everything. I don’t know how or why he got lost, but what if it was someone else’s fault? Do you think that person should be on this train?” Raya hugged her bag, tears glistening in the firelight. “Do you think someone like that, someone who’s caused that kind of harm, deserves to be happy?”
Q knitted his brows. “I don’t—”
“So.” Rasmus sank into an armchair across from the fire. “What’s this all about?”
Lily sat down and clasped her hands tightly over her lap. “Rain.”
Rasmus’s jaw tensed beneath his beard. “It never rains on the Elsewhere Express.”
“We’ve told ourselves that often enough, haven’t we?” Lily opened her satchel and pulled out two small vials containing an inky black liquid.
Raya jumped to her feet. “I’m not drinking that.”
“These aren’t for you, Ms. Sia. It’s for me and Rasmus.”
Rasmus stood up and paced in front of the fire, casting massiveshadows over the room. He slammed his fist against a wall. “It never rains on the Elsewhere Express,” he said, his voice as quiet as his fist was loud.
Lily walked up to him and touched his arm. “You and I don’t have the luxury of believing that lie anymore.” She looked at Raya and Q. “And neither do they.”
“Is anyone going to tell us what’s going on or are you going to keep speaking in riddles the whole night?” Q said.
“You’re right, Mr. Philips. You and Ms. Sia will have the full story.” Lily handed one of the vials to Rasmus. “As soon as Rasmus and I remember it. That’s what the serum’s for.”
Rasmus held the vial up against the light of the fire. Not a sliver of light pierced through its dark contents. “The serum is to help us recall something we chose to forget.”
