Chapter 2: 2
You hear a "tsk," but the person continues on their way. All you see of them is their back; they wear a Gallatin uniform—of course—and the back of their head is sleek and dark. They board the train without a second glance.
Beside the door, your parents are waiting. Your father still has that gaunt, anxious look, while your mother has expertly applied her make-up to hide the tired expression that seems to stay no matter how much she sleeps.
They've been that way since just after your eighteenth birthday.
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