Chapter 13 - Platform Nine
The colorful woman recovered first.
“She cannot be alive.”
The white-haired woman closed the medical case.
“You saw the body?”
“No.”
“Then you know nothing.”
I looked from one to the other.
“My mother died in a hospital.”
“According to the records,” Daniel said through the tube.
I turned toward the tunnel.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your family has more false death certificates than most.”
The words struck harder than they should have.
My mother’s funeral had been closed-casket.
My father said the illness had changed her face too much.
At the time, I believed him.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
The white-haired woman walked to the old control panel inside the signal house. Most switches were rusted, but one brass lever remained polished.
She pulled it down.
A mechanical groan echoed beneath the floor.
Behind the wall, gears began moving.
The platform outside shifted.
A section of concrete slowly lowered into the earth, revealing a hidden staircase.
A black number had been painted above it.
9.
Cold air rose from below.
I held the lantern and descended with the colorful woman while the others followed.
The staircase ended in a vast underground station.
Unlike the ruined platform above, this one was perfectly preserved.
Old clocks still ticked.
Wooden benches stood in neat rows.
A departure board displayed names instead of cities.
Some names had been crossed out.
Others were marked DELAYED.
Mine appeared near the bottom.
Beside it was my daughter’s.
And beneath hers was my mother’s name.
Status: WAITING.
A woman sat alone at the far end of the platform.
Gray coat.
Dark hair streaked with silver.
Hands folded over a cane.
She slowly raised her head.
Even after eleven years, I recognized her eyes.
“Mom?”
She stood.
My legs refused to move.
She looked older, thinner, but unmistakably alive.
I crossed the platform and stopped only inches away.
“Why?”
She reached for my face, but I stepped back.
“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“To keep you outside.”
“Outside what?”
She glanced at the others.
“This war.”
The white-haired woman lowered her head slightly.
Not in respect.
In recognition.
My mother’s expression hardened.
“You brought Helena here.”
So the white-haired woman finally had a name.
Helena smiled faintly.
“You disappeared without permission.”
“I survived without it.”
The colorful woman moved closer.
“You knew about the passengers?”
My mother looked at her.
“I knew because I was one of the first.”
Daniel’s voice came from a speaker mounted above the platform.
“Evelyn?”
My mother went still.
For a second, grief broke through her face.
“Daniel is alive?”
I looked at her.
“You knew he didn’t abandon us.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Before I could speak, the departure board began clicking rapidly.
Every name disappeared.
A new message formed.
FINAL TRAIN RETURNING.
Then the tunnel lights turned red.
A horn sounded in the darkness.
The black train was coming back.
May you like
But this time, it was moving much too fast to stop.
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