“Phoebe Ashcroft?” he asked.
“You’re needed in the last car. There may be an issue with one of our systems, so we’re re-checking passenger tickets there.”
Something about the man’s words struck Phoebe as odd, but she found herself stepping past him into the dark corridor. She walked down rows and rows of sleeper cabins, further into the belly of the train.
The only sounds Phoebe heard were the rhythmic clack of wheels against rail and the faint howl of the wind as the train snaked smoothly across the landscape. There was no talking or coughing or shuffling from other passengers, and she realized that it must have been later in the night than she thought. An uneasy feeling loomed over her, and she wished that she was back in her cabin.