It comes to Thomas then what Dover is talking about. Jordyn must have told the police something about Mr. Dover and the attack. This is what the attorney meant when he said Jordyn was ready to talk. Was John Dover the one who attacked Cora Landry? He thinks of the journal hidden in his coat pocket. In his quick perusal, he had seen Dover’s name dozens of times.

Thomas’s skin begins to vibrate with anger. Had Dover lured his granddaughter and the other girls to the train yard? After what happened to Cora, Jordyn must have been terrified that Mr. Dover was going to come after her, too.

“Did you hear me?” Dover says loudly, snagging Thomas’s jacket in one hand. “Jordyn is going to ruin my life. You have to make her tell the truth.”

“Let go of my coat,” Thomas orders, trying to keep his voice steady, even. Dover curls the fabric even more tightly between his fingers.

“She’s lying,” Dover hisses. He’s near tears.

“My granddaughter doesn’t lie,” Thomas says, though this isn’t quite true. Hadn’t Jordyn lied about sneaking out, about the alcohol, about pushing Cora down, about seeing anyone at the depot?

Far down the tracks the six-thirty train comes into view. Right on time.

The earth shivers beneath Thomas’s feet and the clickity-clack of the approaching train crescendos and Thomas has to raise his voice. “You’re wrong about Jordyn. She’s a good girl.”

“A good girl?” Dover cries, his face so close that Thomas can smell the Cold Press Ale on his breath. “I’ve watched your granddaughter bully and tease Cora Landry all year long and for some reason she’s accusing me of stabbing a twelve-year-old girl! I’m a teacher, for God’s sake.”

The headlight from the oncoming engine floods the train yard and Dover’s face is distorted with disbelief, rage. “Jordyn was only pretending to be Cora’s friend. Now she’s trying to blame me.

“What did I ever do to her?” Dover steps toward him with each word, forcing Thomas backward until his heels bump against the iron rails. Thomas cries out, his left knee buckling. Sent off balance on the loose gravel he falls and lands on his back perpendicular across the tracks. The men lock eyes, both registering first shock then fear as the train inches closer. Thomas reaches for Dover’s hand, the slick fabric of his down coat slipping through his fingers as he tumbles and falls backward onto the tracks.