“Congratulations.” Isla smiled. “You both did.”
“What?”Raya said.
“The Elsewhere Express’s compartments are located in differentparts of the train, but all passengers claim their keys at the lobby. The conductor sent a memo telling us to expect two new passengers this evening. May I see your tickets so I can fetch your keys?”
Raya’s palm trembled over the counter as Isla ran her eyes over it. “Thank you, Ms. Sia.”
Q extended his hand, his fingers shaking as much as Raya’s. Isla wrinkled her forehead. “Is something wrong?” Q said.
Isla bit her lip. “May I please see your ticket again, Ms. Sia?”
“Why?” Raya held out her palm. “Is there a problem?”
Isla stared at Raya’s hand, her brows knitted tight. She straightened, adjusting her scarf. “Just a moment, please.”
Raya waited for the receptionist to disappear behind the wooden wall emblazoned with the golden knot. “Do you hate me, Q?”
“Why would I hate you?” Q said, his eyes on the eternal knot.
“Because I believe that the stowaway is my brother. And you don’t.”
Q turned to face her, his eyes soft. “How can I hate you for wanting to save your brother? Between the two of us, you have more reasons to hate me. I left you at the Archive.”
“I don’t hate you.” She just wished that she did. It would be less complicated that way. She couldn’t hate Q for doing what he thought was right. Even if he was completely wrong. “I would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes.”
“I guess that puts us in a strange spot then,” Q said. “Two people who completely understand why we need to stop each other from doing what we absolutely must do.”
“Thank you for waiting.” Isla walked back to the front desk. “As you know, your train tickets don’t specify your compartments. This is because your journey to find your place on the Elsewhere Express is what determines the compartment the train assigns you. The story of this journey is written on your hands. That’s why I asked to see them. It tells me what you’ve held on to and let go of, who you’ve touched and who you’ve pushed away. What you find at the end of your search is, after all, entirely dependent on what you’re looking for and how you went about finding it.” She placed a silver key on the counter between Raya and Q.
“Whose key is this?” Raya asked.
“That is a decision that the train is leaving up to you.”
“What do you mean?” Q said.
“The Elsewhere Express has a very strict policy onaccommodations. One passenger. One compartment. One bond.” The receptionist gestured to the silver key. “And one key. I thought that I had made a mistake when I saw your palms. But, as it turns out, I hadn’t. Your search for your place here has led both of you to the same compartment.”
“Does that mean we’ll have to share until you find another room for one of us?” Raya said.
The receptionist shook her head. “The Elsewhere Express does not reassign compartments just as it does not reissue tickets. Place and purpose don’t have duplicate keys. You have until the end of the evening to decide which one of you will stay and which one will leave. In the meantime, will you be needing assistance with your baggage?”
Six passengers attempted to squeeze into an old-fashioned birdcage elevator meant for two. Raya and Q boarded first. Two choices, waiting to be made, followed them inside. Time, the fifth passenger, strode over to a corner and stood still. Silence slipped in after it and took up every available space. The elevator’s scissor door slid shut.
Raya and Q stood side by side, their eyes on the door’s crisscrossing metal bars, ignoring the decisions pressed against them for as long as they could. Once the elevator opened its door, the time that had waited patiently until then would elbow everyone in the ribs and run out.
“So should we talk about it now or later?” Q said.
“What’s there to discuss?” Raya kept her gaze ahead of her. “We have choices to make that are as impossible as they are cruel. You’re going to try and kill my brother and I’m going to do whatever I need to do to save him. Assuming we survive that, we’ll then have to decide who stays on the train and who jumps off it. There is no scenario where any of us gets a happy ending.”
“Then can we make a deal, Raya?”
Raya looked at him. “What kind of deal?”
“Can we pretend that the two people who walk out of this elevator aren’t us? Those people are going to hurt each other. Terribly.”
Raya hung her head. “I know.”
Q reached for her hand. “So can we agree that our short story ends here instead?”
