Alexa

“He really doesn’t have a heart, does he?” Julius sneered, jerking his chin toward Mr. Moris.

That morning, everyone had gathered at the abandoned old station near the club. A magical train, usually used by Mr. Moris for transporting goods, was now filled with refugees from Silver Moon. Out of nearly a thousand Silver Moon residents, only about two hundred had escaped Alastair’s siege. Three-quarters of them were women and children.

At the front carriage door, Jo was busy directing people onto the train. Meanwhile, Mr. Moris stood silently smoking, leaning against a platform. Even to the very end, the man showed no signs of helping us. No wonder...