Epilogue
The pink-haired woman left her tiny house just as the night sky was starting to lighten to a deep gray. A small infant was nestled against her chest in a sling and she carried her husband's bag in one hand. She moved swiftly through the woods, instincts leading her more than her eyes, and she arrived at the edge of Motavia's massive island before dawn.
She gently laid the baby down on the ground, letting the cloth of the sling be his makeshift bed. He didn't wake, peacefully oblivious to his surroundings. She reached into the bag and pulled out an old notebook. Most people she knew used small, portable computers to write, but she still relished the intimacy of pencil meeting paper.
She waited for the sun to inch out over the horizon, for the first rays to cast their light on the book she held in her hand. As always, she closed her eyes at the appearance of the sun, preferring to feel instead of see. When she was satisfied that enough light had filled the sky, she opened the notebook and began to compose.
My dearest Gabe,
Even as I write, I know you're here with me, looking over my shoulder as you always used to do. You're in the breeze through my hair, in the scent of the grass, in the light of the sun rippling over the sea. You're the twinkle in baby Hugh's eyes, and I have no doubt that you're gazing upon me and our beloved son with nothing but love in your heart. He is my sunrise now, my new beginning, the life to pick up where yours left off. I know he will be just like his father and do incredible things with his life, and we'll always be watching him together, even when we're physically apart.
You always told me not to worry, and now I ask the same of you. We are both healthy and safe and we have you and the precious light of Algol watching over and protecting us. The pain of missing you is always present in me, but I'll keep smiling so he learns how to smile, I'll laugh so he learns to laugh. And as I loved you, he will learn to love and cherish you as if you were here by his side, as I know you wanted to be.
Always yours,
Deandra
She used her usual elaborate signature, just as she had always done. Several tears had splattered onto the page, slightly smudging the writing, but it didn't matter. The purple-haired baby opened his eyes and cooed for his mother, kicking his legs. She reached out for her son and picked him up to kiss him before laying him back down for one more moment. Ripping the page out of the notebook, she folded up her letter and walked to the edge of the cliff. Embraced by the warmth of the sun, she tossed the letter out into the air and watched it float down and disappear into the waves below.
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