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“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she murmured, looking at her red stained hands.
“What happened to you?” he whispered.
“Julius,” she whispered back. “He made me like this. He lied to us all.”
Daisy locked eyes with the stranger and, like electricity crossing wires, understanding passed between them. In his eyes, she saw her own suffering. Confusion. Despair. Maybe that’s what he’d seen in hers when he’d blurted the truth.
The corner of a white card poked out from the inside of his white robe collar. She went for it. He tried to stop her but she was too fast. What she saw stopped her heart.
A family photograph. Him, with a healthy-looking complexion, not sallow and sour like it was now. A woman. Two children hugging his legs. Daisy’s eyes burned.
“We don’t have to let him win,” she croaked. “There’s still time to be better.”
Family first. That’s the mantra Mary peddled. Daisy wanted to believe it. She wanted to feel it.
The Faithful peered into the darkness ahead. He glanced back at the train cars. Then he straightened himself, lifted his chin, and shoved her out the cabin door.
