Chapter 24 Don't Jinx It

• The telephone station looked like something out of an old black-and-white movie—small, rundown, and with a flickering neon sign that read “COMMUNICATIONS” in a faded green glow. I half-expected a rotary phone to greet us when we stepped inside.
• Mr. Thorne didn’t bother hiding his disdain as he glanced around. “This is what they call a station?” he muttered, his brows knitting together.
• “Better than nothing,” I said, rubbing my arms against the chill still clinging to me from our trek. My damp clothes weren’t doing me any favors.