The rain had started again, soft at first and then pounding against the old glass windows of Maplewood Station. The small town’s train station was nearly deserted, except for a handful of late travelers and one girl sitting alone on a wooden bench, earbuds in, backpack clutched tightly against her chest.Her name was Rhea, sixteen, and tired of waiting—not just for the delayed 9:45 train, but for something bigger. For life to finally change.She tapped her foot to the muffled beat of her music, staring at the glowing departure board. Every train flickered between “On Time” and “Delayed.” Maplewood wasn’t