Edio Yenye Shavu

he final train to Chalfont and Latimer station was never supposed to be packed. That’s what Daniel had consistently heard. Yet when he stepped onto the almost empty platform just after midnight, he saw one more person already waiting—a woman standing motionless beneath the flickering light. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t move. She remained still, facing the tracks. The wind rose, chilly and sharp, carrying a faraway metallic screech.