⊱    Epilogue    ⊰

⋅ ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ ⊱∘──────────────∘⊰ ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ ⋅

Pangaea, Iceland. May 2037.

   The new world had already stabilized. The climate was much more intense than what humans were accustomed to; the rains fell with great force, the sun heated intensely, and everyone had to protect themselves slightly from the cold. The world's fauna and flora didn't seem affected by this in the least; in fact, it could be seen that their potential was being fully realized. Wild animals were now the dominant species, living in complete harmony with each other. Humans had to adapt and survive; this was no longer their world. They were allowed to stay, but like all good guests, they had to behave or leave.

   After much research, the scientists of Pangea found a connection between the Drowned and the agrochemicals and pesticides used in food. If their calculations were correct, the new generations born shortly before the pandemic would not suffer from this curse, as the world's diet had become completely organic. The change in the planet was attributed to the force of nature in a desperate attempt to balance its ecosystems, or what was left of them.

   Iceland was completely filled with crops, which grew twice as strong and fast as they used to. The flavors were indescribable; people claimed they had never tasted such delicious food. Fruits, vegetables, legumes, spices from all over the world were growing in Iceland. Due to the environmental crisis, you could find all types of climates and soils on a single island, as well as in every corner of the rest of the world.

   Animals no longer had any fear of humans; they even commanded respect, even the smallest insect. All were free, no longer anyone's property. They grew freely and roamed as they pleased. At the beginning of the pandemic in Pangea, animal-based foods were still consumed, but after the hard work of the volunteers, they managed to create a perfect crop ecosystem within the island, allowing them to follow a mostly vegan and completely balanced diet. There were exceptions, as with everything, but every action was measured by its environmental impact.

   Nothing new had been built. They used the same structures that had always been there, such as barns, schools, nurseries, warehouses, theaters, leisure centers, or research centers. Unlike most of the world, they managed to have electricity based on ecological energy, solar panels, wind energy, kinetic energy, and more. Any electrode harmful to the environment was properly discarded. The lifestyle people led there was based on zero waste—of absolutely anything, even life.

   Life there was simple, but everyone had to work hard. For every six children, there was only one adult. Therefore, tasks were shared and rotated. The children spent each day supervised by different adults, learning all the tasks for when they grew up.

   They were happy... despite having lost everything, but with patience and care, everyone had moved forward. Large families were gradually forming, in an environment where every child on the island was allowed to be the most authentic version of themselves.

   They were the future, and they had to be treated as such.

   Hundreds and hundreds of cruise ships from around the world surrounded the island; there were too many to count, but they housed the majority of the remaining global population. People had their homes there, so as not to disturb the island. They had to access the cruise ships by small rowboats, as their size prevented them from being too close to the island, but it wasn't dangerous at all. These small boats were the only ones that moved, along with the fishing boats that traveled to the ports on the continents, though not as often as they used to. The cruise ships remained motionless; they couldn't even be turned on anymore, simply serving their purpose as a new home.

   After two years of hard work, all the volunteers were moving to Pangea. There was nothing left to do in the rest of the world; they had completed their mission, and now it was time to rest. There were still people living on the continents, but humanity was already moving forward.

   From the same ship that had brought the young women there, Leonardo and Álvaro were now disembarking, along with the rest of the volunteers. Greta was waiting for them at the port with her characteristic smile.

   Álvaro was the first to disembark and automatically turned around to help Leonardo. Without saying a word, Greta approached her old friends and embraced them sweetly. They had kept in touch all this time, but the joy of seeing each other again was incomparable. Cheerfully, Greta showed them the place, which moved them to tears. Their struggle had been worth it, and they could see it in the peace of each of the refugees.

   After showing them the island, Greta led them to their new home—the same cruise ship where she and hundreds of others slept. Greta and Álvaro rowed in unison, calmly.

   "Where is she?" Leonardo asked, looking at the cruise ships one by one.

   "In that one," Greta replied, nodding toward the cruise ship on her right. They hadn't talked much about the matter in letters, as they tried to use as little paper as possible, which was reserved for discussing supplies and the shelter. "I wanted her to be as close to me as possible. When we saw each other again, she had a breakdown. I was the first and only one she told about what happened at the port. I didn't leave her side for weeks. Sooner or later, I had to give her space, but she never leaves there... she always stays on her cruise ship. She doesn't even know the island." Greta sighed as she tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind one of her ears. "It's been almost a year, Leonardo. I don't think Rosadella will ever be the same again..."

   "No, the Rosadella we knew is dead, Greta. But she can move on, she can be happy again... When? I don't know..."

   "And Antonia?" Álvaro asked, anguished by Rosadella's suffering. He had fallen in love with her from their first meeting, but had never had the courage to confess.

   "In the farthest cruise ship possible, I didn't think it was a good idea for Rosadella to know her location, though she never asked about her. The last time she mentioned her name was when she told me about the port... Her condition is delicate, so she's in one of the medical cruise ships. That's where we have the patients who need to be hospitalized for whatever reason. Like Rosadella, she never leaves, but not by choice."

   "A hospital on the water," Álvaro said dreamily, eager to change the subject. "I can't wait to see it and work there."

   "We also have places on the island where you can practice your profession, Leonardo," Greta continued. "I can take you to see it as well, after taking Álvaro."

   "It would be a pleasure, but if you don't mind... I would also like to see Álvaro's new workplace."

   "Of course..." Greta concluded.

   Both men were assigned rooms adjacent to Greta's. They had lunch, took a short nap, arranged their few belongings, and set off for the cruise ship where Antonia was. The sunset was approaching.

   Upon arriving at the ship, Greta gave Leonardo a general explanation of the place and led him to Antonia's room. She and Álvaro left to tour the facilities in detail, introduce Álvaro to the staff, and explain how things worked there.

   Leonardo, nervous, kept staring at the closed door. Inside, he could hear sweet instrumental music coming from an old record player. He took a deep breath and knocked three times softly, adjusting the tie he had put on for the occasion. He could hear the soft creaking of the floorboards as barefoot feet approached in time with the music. Antonia opened the door, with the twilight sun framing her silhouette from behind. She wore a long pink dress with embroidered flowers. Her hair had grown wildly, falling loose past her hips. She looked like something out of a fairy tale. Leonardo couldn't imagine her harming anyone.

   "Leonardo?" she said softly. Then she hugged him. She spoke in a low, melodious voice, with formality. Listening to her talk was like hearing a forty-year-old woman; it had a strange effect. She invited him in and to sit on a stool by her window, while she chose her wicker rocking chair.

   The room was completely decorated with antique objects, as if stepping back in time. Pink hues, flowers, and embroidery could be found in every corner. But there were no signs of her past life anywhere, except for a striking painting of a fantasy treehouse, though the colors were not quite right. Leonardo looked at it as he listened to Antonia tell him that she had made it in her youth, though the truth was she had painted it just a few months ago. What she didn't mention was that it was an almost exact replica of a painting from long ago, which was tucked away in some dark, dusty corner of Paris. The only modification was that on one of the terraces, a young woman in a green tuxedo could be seen.

   Antonia caressed her belly, which had not grown. It was swollen as if she were three months pregnant, but it had stopped there. Her menstruation had not returned, and the medical staff had confirmed what Álvaro and Leonardo had predicted a year ago.

   "How are you, dear?" Leonardo asked, his eyes watery.

   "Wonderful, to be honest. I don't have as much morning sickness anymore. The people here are very kind; I got a good cruise ship. They always treat me well and listen attentively to the things I tell them about my boy."

   "Oh, is it a boy?" Leonardo had been informed that Antonia had undergone therapy, but they had not been able to bring her out of her state. Any memory of Nadine or Rosadella had been completely erased from her mind; in her memories, she had traveled alone, accompanied by a sweet young man for a short period, as he had supposedly decided to stay on the continent because his cat didn't like traveling by boat. She believed herself to be twice her actual age. She lived in an endless loop, waking up each day to relive the same day over and over, which was why she was never disturbed by the fact that her pregnancy wasn't progressing.

   "Yes, I'm going to name him Abele. Don't you think it's a beautiful name?"

   "Yes, dear, it is... Can you tell me what date it is today? Forgive me, I'm a forgetful old man," Leonardo whispered, shrugging his shoulders.

   "Oh, yes! Don't worry, today is the 22nd of March."

   And it always will be for you, Leonardo thought. He didn't dare ask her the year.

   "Leonardo, are you happy?" That question completely unsettled the man, who took a few seconds to think about his answer.

   "Yes, beautiful, I think I am. Not all the time, of course, but most of it. Are you happy?"

   "Yes..." she said, looking at her belly. "I finally have the life I always dreamed of."

   Leonardo couldn't help but think how unfair that was, no matter that it was a fantasy. Rosadella hadn't had the luck of losing her mind.

   They talked for two more hours until Álvaro knocked on the door. Antonia greeted him joyfully, and they chatted for a few more minutes. The sun had completely set, and it was late. When they left, she was gently rocking in her chair, looking out the window, smiling as she caressed her belly, singing along with the record player:

   "Time can't mend the careless whisper of a good friend. For the heart and mind, ignorance is kind. There's no comfort in the truth... pain is all you'll find."

   That night, Leonardo couldn't sleep. The next day, he would go to see Rosadella.

   Once again, he found himself staring at a door, but this time it was Rosadella's. This time, no music could be heard, and when he knocked on the door after adjusting his tie, he couldn't hear any cheerful footsteps either. Just a muted voice inviting him to enter. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Rosadella was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books. Her cabin lacked any decoration; the only detail was a small blood-stained photograph taped to the wall next to her bed. She held one of the books in her left hand and a pencil in the other, underlining the sentences she liked. The book's cover featured a drawing of a labyrinth.

   Her hair was loose, wild, and beautiful. A large, frizzy mane covered her face. She wore wrinkled brown pants and her old purple sweatshirt, stained with indelible marks from the past; a new soft orange patch. On her feet, she wore only mismatched socks.

   "Tell me," Rosadella whispered as she underlined another sentence. When she didn't get a response, she looked up.

   Seeing her faithful friend, she immediately stood up and ran to him. She hugged him protectively. With one hand on her back and the other in her hair, Leonardo could feel how thin Rosadella had become, as she hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck like a small child. They both sobbed.

   "You finally came," Rosadella said through tears, stopping the embrace but not moving away. As she straightened the tie she had inadvertently twisted.

   "I've come to stay; I'm not going anywhere," he replied.

  For the next hour, sitting on the floor surrounded by books, she bombarded him with questions, excitedly demanding that he tell her everything he had experienced in her absence, avoiding talking about herself. Leonardo allowed it, but he had nothing left to tell her, so he asked:

   "Rosadella, tell me how I can help you. You've gone through hell to get here, and now you're torturing yourself by staying locked up here... it's been almost a year, it's time to start moving forward, little by little."

   "No, Leonardo, you're wrong..." she said, losing energy instantly. She moved a few inches away from him and hugged her legs. "I didn't go through hell to get here; I thought I was going through hell, but it was worth it because I'd be here with her. I was wrong; the real hell is being here without her, not making it... we were so close. I feel like I didn't make it across; sometimes I wish that had been the case. My heart is still there, on that pier."

   "Have you visited her family?"

   "I can't, I can't look them in the eye and tell them that I couldn't keep the promise I made to their daughter. I promised her that she would see them again, Leonardo..."

   "Rosadella, you have to let her go... Your heart is still at the pier because you still think she's there. You have to let her go to move forward, and then you'll feel her closer than ever. You'll see her in every sunset, in every raindrop, you'll hear her in every laugh. She's in the little things, look for her there. A piece of her essence is inside you and will follow you wherever you go... another is with her family."

   Rosadella began to cry uncontrollably, her heart starting to accept what her mind had known for a long time. Nadine wouldn't be coming back; she was gone for good, and destroying herself wouldn't bring her back or honor her memory. Leonardo was right; Nadine hadn't gone through all that in vain. Rosadella had the responsibility to continue with her life, letting Nadine feel the peace of living there but through her.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

   Rosadella and Leonardo toured the entire island, along with Álvaro, who, after a few days, had already joined the hospital staff but not without first spending time with his friend, who needed him. He accompanied her on her journey, never letting go of her hand. Leonardo had arrived just a few days earlier, yet he became Rosadella's guide, showing her every little detail of the island.

   "There's only one last stop left. Are you ready?"

   Rosadella nodded slowly, terrified. She clutched the bag she had prepared and followed Leonardo.

   A long walk through the forest led them to a lake, mountains in the distance, and a large oak tree where a family of four was having a picnic. Rosadella stood petrified, starting to feel what Leonardo had told her during his first visit. There they were, Nadine's family, and somehow, even though she wasn't there, Rosadella could feel that it hadn't all been in vain. She could sense that the reunion would happen, but not in the way she had planned.

   "Do you want me to go with you?" Leonardo asked.

   "No, it's fine... Thank you."

   With that, the old man sat down on the grass and waited for her there.

   She slowly began to walk toward them. The sun had started to set, tinting the river orange and bathing the mountains in the same color. Sunbeams filtered through the leaves of the large tree, creating a beautiful effect on the picnic's glassware. The birds sang a sweet symphony, giving an unreal feeling to the scene.

   Destan, with Irving sitting on his shoulders, was watching the birds in the tree. Maureen and Joalí were sitting, the teenager reading a novel aloud to her and her mother. The woman was the first to see Rosadella, and she automatically jumped to her feet, eyes wide open. A year ago, they had received the news of their daughter's death, which had devastated them. They had to attend numerous family therapy sessions to start overcoming it, but their hearts were broken and could never be repaired.

   They had already lost their daughter Triana at the beginning of her journey when, to protect her father, she had fallen from a tall building, dragging down with her the Drowned man who threatened her family's life. Upon arriving at Pangea, they checked the list of new refugees and the deceased every week, but they never found Nadine's name on them. When the tragedy occurred, the news reached their door. After much insistence and with the psychologist's approval, Greta had told them the whole story. They needed closure for their daughter.

   Greta told them about their daughter's journey, right up until her final moment. But she never mentioned Rosadella's name, as she was in a deplorable state.

   At the end of the story, the only question the parents had was what had happened to Antonia. Greta explained the situation, that she would spend the rest of her days on that cruise, confined. She had been put on trial, and they had concluded that she needed to be institutionalized forever.

   All they wanted was to never cross paths with her. They never mentioned her again. Her name was a forbidden word in their family; no one wanted to say it, and no one wanted to hear it.

   After all that, they knew it was only a matter of time before that nameless girl appeared before them. That name they did want to say, to hear, and to know, but they respected Greta's decision to protect her friend's anonymity. They knew it was only a matter of time.

   And there she was, standing in silence. She looked at them one by one, clutching her bag. The whole family stared at her, too overwhelmed to speak.

   A year had passed, but none of them would ever overcome their losses. The love was too strong to let them go; they clung to them with determination.

   Still silent, Rosadella slowly knelt and placed the bag on the ground, where all of Nadine's belongings were, including the gifts she had collected for her family. Tears blurred her vision.

   The only thing missing was the sweatshirt that Rosadella never took off and that last photo, stained with Nadine's blood, that rested on the wall of her cabin. The rest of the photos were in the bag, except Antonia had been cut out of them. Without a word, she handed them some of the items.

   Maureen and Destan looked at the photo of their daughter in a green tuxedo that looked spectacular on her, staring out a window with a slight smile. They couldn't help but smile too. They could see their daughter happy, just as Greta had said, happy and immortalized in that photo thanks to Rosadella. Without knowing it, at the moment the photo was taken Nadine had been thinking of them.

   Joalí, clutching a book with a dedication from her sister on the first page, cried silently. She had never cried over the death of either of her two sisters, but now a door had opened, and she couldn't stop.

   Irving had climbed down from his father's shoulders and slowly approached.

   "Are you Nadine's girlfriend?" he asked, standing in front of her.

   She nodded and, with a broken voice, said, "I'm sure she wanted you to have this..."

   The boy excitedly took the stuffed crab in his arms.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

(...)

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

(...)

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Lord Huron - "The Night We Met".

⋅ ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ ⊱∘──────────────∘⊰ ⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅ ⋅

⊱   The End   ⊰