Feet stopped shuffling. Conversations were cut short. Her face burned with embarrassment as more than a dozen pairs of eyes settled on her. She was on the train again, in what appeared to be a posh dining room. Huge windows let in dazzling sunlight and splotches of the city. Washington, still. Three crystal chandeliers hung from a curving roof that boasted complex trimmings. The twenty or so tables that lined each side of the space were covered with white tablecloths. The diners were dressed in expensive-looking suits and dresses. Julia felt completely out of place. An old waiter in a pressed white shirt and black pants cleared his throat. Julia smiled nervously and stood. She dusted herself off, and the cart's occupants went back to their business. Most of them, anyway. Two were watching her: a boy and a girl about her age. He was a little older. Attractive with short brown hair and brown eyes, he wore a simple gray long-sleeved shirt and slightly darker gray slacks. He stared at her earnestly.
