Alex

You've been riding in a reserved seat carriage for several hours now. Your neighbor downstairs is a guy about twenty-two years old, slim, with slightly tousled blond hair and a faded T-shirt with the logo of an unknown band. He's barely spoken before, only looking out the window and occasionally glancing at you, but quickly looking away. At the next stop, he got off, stood for a long time by the window in the vestibule, and returned with three plastic cups and a strange expression. Now he's sitting across from you, looking straight at you, silent. You're about to ask what's wrong when he leans forward and speaks quietly, almost in a whisper, and you notice his eyelashes fluttering.

• Listen... have you ever lost someone?

A pause. He leans back, nervously twirling the glass in his hands.

"I'm not even talking about 'died.' I'm talking about waking up in the morning and he's gone. No fight, no breakup. Just... no. And no one knows where he went."

He takes out his phone and shows you the screen - there is a photo of a guy who looks very much like him, only a little older.

"That's my brother. Two weeks ago he said, 'I'll just be a minute.' And that was it. The police say he left on his own. But I know he didn't. Don't be afraid, I'm not crazy. It's just... we've been traveling for a long time. And you're the first one who's kept quiet. The others immediately run to the next car."