Introduction

In the winter of 1940, as war darkened distant horizons and uncertainty rippled across continents, the Canadian Rockies remained a world apart-vast, cold, and ancient. Through these mountains ran the Dominion Star, a luxury sleeper train of polished brass and deep mahogany, gliding westward toward Vancouver with the assured rhythm of a heartbeat.

Passengers boarded seeking comfort, privacy, or simple passage through the high pass, unaware that this particular journey would be unlike any the Dominion Star had taken before. Snowstorms had come early that year, swallowing the peaks in white silence, and beneath that silence lingered rumors: of smugglers riding the rail lines, of a vanished humanitarian network, and of a ledger filled with names that certain men would kill to possess.

Félix Moreau, senior conductor, returned to duty expecting nothing more dramatic than schedule delays and the occasional quarrel over luggage. He was a quiet man, methodical and observant, known for keeping his train orderly even in the worst weather. But on this winter crossing, Moreau would find himself far from the security of timetables and passenger lists. For hidden among the travelers was a reclusive millionaire with too many secrets, a frightened boy pressed into dangerous errands, and a child-silent, watchful-who seemed to move through the very bones of the train.

When the storm reached its height and the mountains closed in around the steel carriages, a man was found stabbed inside his locked compartment. Three passengers claimed a hand in the act. Another vanished into the walls. And a ledger, long thought lost, resurfaced-carrying a history written in sorrow and shadow.

As the Dominion Star pushed through the blizzard, Moreau became more than a conductor. He became protector, investigator, and, at times, the only steady voice in a corridor filled with panic. The truth he uncovered would reach far beyond a single crime, touching the lives of all aboard and revealing what people will do when trapped in the dark with their fears.

This journey, meant to be as ordinary as any winter run, became a passage through guilt, mercy, vengeance, and redemption. And at its heart stood a conductor determined to guide his passengers-not just through the mountains, but through the truth.