Makaria nodded at what she thought was his name: Much. (Even though it was a word, it could also be a name. There was a girl in one of Makaria’s classes called Lake and a boy called Hope.) “Good night, Much,” she told him with a little smile, stepping out onto the station after the doors had opened.
They closed again and Makaria remained on the station, watching the train with the sad man pull away. Makaria chewed on her lip and hoped that he would be alright.