It even had a fold-down table and a power outlet. For a man running on three hours of sleep, it felt like luxury. He placed his leather bag in the overhead bin, removed his book—a worn spy thriller he hadn’t touched in six months—and slid into the seat.
His body melted into the cushioning. His eyes closed for just a moment. He had no idea that peace was about to be tested in the most ridiculous way imaginable. The train gave a soft lurch and began pulling out of the station.