“I’ll take the whole bottle.”
“Take two, if you want. Or three. What happened at the gallery couldn’t have been easy.”
Raya ran her thumb over the gold knot on her skin. “I just wish that this place would let this damn thing unravel faster instead of playing all these games.”
“I don’t think that the exhibit was meant to be a game.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t a game. It was torture. This train enjoys being cruel.”
“I don’t believe it was trying to be cruel either,” Q said softly.
“That’s easy for you to say. The gallery didn’t put your life on display.”
“Maybe it’s because it didn’t have to. When I plan a collection, I don’t select pieces that I’ve showcased before. I showed you my secrets before we went to the gallery. There was no need for you to see them up on a wall.”
“Need?” Raya said. “Why would the gallery care if I knew your secrets or not?”
“Like I told you, I’m beginning to think the train cars are designed to help us find our way. The Painting and Maintenance Department gave us a glimpse of what was possible if we mastered our thoughts. The Dragonfly taught us how to traverse worries and grudges. The Archive’s map showed us how much weight we could carry if we shared it.”
“And the gallery?” Raya sat up straight. “What did it teach you apart from Aki’s secret ingredient for his Sakura Surprise and my shame? How exactly did putting my life on exhibit for your entertainment help me find my compartment? Tell me, Q, what earthshaking insight did you get from that little show? That my brother’s death was an accident? That I shouldn’t blame myself? That living his dream instead of my own won’t bring him back? Don’t you think I know that?”
“I’m sorry. It was none of my business.” Q stood up.
“Wait.” Raya jumped to her feet. “I was being a jerk. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Raya, it’s fine. Really.” He glanced down at the space between their chests where the invisible tether connected them. “I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to.” He flashed a small smile.
“That tether’s quite the snitch, isn’t it?” Raya sighed.
“It is. Which is why, as embarrassed as I am about what I’m about to tell you, you’ll know that it’s the truth.” A breath deflated his chest. “Do you know what my first thought was when I imagined Olly being stuck here? I didn’t think about how scared he must havebeen or how lonely his days were. I thought about myself. I went on a little trip down memory lane, remembering what it was like to be trapped in the dark.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Raya said.
Q met her eyes. “Because I want you to believe me when I tell you that I understand why you said all those things earlier. And it’s not just because we’re tethered. I understand you because I’ve stood in your shoes. I’m still standing in them. You said that you knew what each painting in the gallery contained. I don’t doubt that. I know as many things about being blind. I know that my experience of losing my sight isn’t even remotely comparable to Olly being trapped here. I know that blindness isn’t a life sentence in solitary confinement. I know that people have built incredible lives without their sight, lives with more than enough worth and weight to keep them from floating away and boarding this train. I know all of these things.” He turned from the window and looked at Raya. “But knowing and believing—”
“—are two very different things.” A tear escaped Raya’s lashes and streamed down her cheek. She dried her eyes on the sleeve of Q’s coat and stopped. “Oh no. Your coat. I forgot I was wearing it. I’m sorry,” she said, shrugging her shoulders out of it.
“You didn’t read the passenger handbook, did you?”
“No, why?”
“It clearly states that it’s against the Elsewhere Express’s rules to return a coat.”
“It does, does it?” Raya let out a small laugh. “Is this something you know or believe?”
“The latter. With my whole heart.” Q walked behind her and helped her back into his coat. “Now it’s your turn.”
“To what?”
“To practice believing. We can start with this drawer.”
“And what am I supposed to believe about it? That it contains a bottle of Shiraz or an umbrella?”
“Either would be great, but since we’re starting small, maybe you can just try to believe that no matter what’s inside it, you and I arenot going to give up opening every drawer, digging through every mountain of pens, and turning every sock inside out until we find a way out of here. Who knows? Today might even be the day that someone just happens to lose an empty picture frame.”
