Violet said to Frank. “We’ll hop out at the next stop.” Frank looked terrified. “Do you think they’ll come after us?” “What do they care? Two less to worry about.” She relaced her boots and shoved her Bible under the seat. Mrs. Comstock dozed at the front of the car, her head cocked against her shoulder. “We got to get lost from the rest. Go up to a different car.” “You mean now?” Frank asked. “I’ll go. You follow in a minute.” Violet jumped up. Patrick grabbed her arm as she passed. “Where you off to, huh?” She jutted her chin toward the front of the car. He laughed. “Well, ain’t you the adventurer.” But he didn’t offer to come along, resignation having deflated his bravado. She slipped by Mrs. Comstock, and all of a sudden she was outside in the deafening space between cars, a new quickness in her feet. She pushed through the door into the next car, sparsely filled with riders who didn’t turn to look at her as she made her way up the aisle, running her hand along the backs of the seats.
