I had been dreaming about this trip for months.
Just the three of us, unplugged and present—no screens, no noise, just a bit of old-fashioned wonder aboard a holiday-themed train with cocoa, carolers, and a promise of new memories. The boys were buzzing with excitement before we even stepped aboard. They picked their own seats, argued over the window, then sank into the plush green cushions like they belonged there.
For the first few minutes, it felt perfect.
And then, the whispering began.
I noticed the way they leaned in, exchanging looks, heads close like they were sharing top-secret plans. I should’ve asked what they were up to—but I was too wrapped up in the moment. The gentle sway of the train, the sunlight warming our seats, their sweet faces lit up by excitement and wonder.
Then the whispering stopped, and one of them said loud enough for everyone nearby to hear: “Let’s do it.”
Before I could react, they shot up and bolted toward the back of the train, their footsteps thundering on the wooden floor. I jumped to my feet, calling out their names, but they were already gone, their laughter echoing behind them.
Panic gripped my chest. I didn’t know what they had planned, but I had a terrible feeling it wasn’t good.
I rushed after them—just as the conductor appeared in the aisle, looking completely baffled.
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrows drawn together.
“I’m so sorry,” I panted. “My kids—they’re… up to something. I have to catch them.”
He stepped aside immediately, motioning for me to pass. I didn’t hesitate, weaving through narrow passageways and startled passengers.
When I finally spotted them through the glass door of the dining car, they were laughing—hands gripping the emergency brake lever.
“NO!” I yelled, bursting in just as one of them gave the lever a strong tug.
Too late.
The train screeched to a sudden, violent halt. People lurched in their seats. Dishes clattered. Gasps filled the car, followed by an eerie, heavy silence.
I rushed to them, my heart in my throat, voice shaking with a cocktail of fear, embarrassment, and anger.
“What were you thinking?” I demanded.
They stared up at me, frozen, hands still on the lever.
Ben, the younger one, finally whispered, “We just wanted to see what would happen.”
I dropped to my knees in front of them, taking a deep breath…