"I do have a picture of him," Rose said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old, yellowing photograph. Its edges were frayed. It showed a group of children and teenagers gathered in front of a small, log building. "He's in the center, on the back row," she said. She gazed at it for a moment before passing it to Lizzie. In faded, old-fashioned script, Lizzie could read Chippewa Falls School, 1907.

"He was fifteen there," Rose said. "That was taken just before he left."

The Jack the photograph showed wasn't quite hers, but she could see how that young boy would grow into him. Even in the grainy black and white she still saw his blue eyes. His golden hair. His tanned, well-shaped hands. His hair was shorter, but it still fell over his forehead in the way she remembered.

One by one, they all looked at it. "How did you find this?" Brock asked.

"I went there," Rose explained. "Just once. Just for a day, before I got married. I needed to feel close to him again, so I could let go a little more. I went to make peace, with myself and with Jack." She paused. "I found it in the library."

"Did you steal it?" Bodine asked.

"What do you think?" Rose said pertly. "I still have it, don't I?" A chuckle moved through the group.

"And that's him," Brock said, staring at his image, frozen in time. "That's Jack."

"Yes," Rose said. "I've kept it hidden, all these years. Like his memory."

….

Rose felt the familiar rush of sleep. Her breathing slowed. Her tired body welcomed the rest. But it wasn't long before she realized something was different. This wasn't just falling asleep. She felt herself getting lighter and lighter. She couldn't feel the bed anymore. She was afraid to open her eyes. She reached out for the blanket, for the bed post, for anything to hold her down, but there was nothing.

The sound of rushing water filled her ears. She opened her eyes, and she was flying above the ocean, and now through it. But the water wasn't cold. She felt more quickly now, and her fear was gone. She didn't want to go back.

It was a ruin. The sight was still heartbreaking, but as she moved closer, it began changing. Suddenly, she was walking through the corridors, and they were new again. Whole. Dry. Her legs moved quickly. She felt strong. She hadn't felt this good in years.

She knew where she was going instinctively. What she didn't expect was the crowd. Were they all here for her?

Rose reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase and looked up. His back was to her, as if he were waiting for the clock to strike the hour.

And then he turned. Rose wasn't sure if she was walking or floating. Jack held out his hand, and finally, she was able to take it. He smiled. He was warm and solid. She wanted to bask in his warmth. He was like a Sun god. This was how he was supposed to be, not blue-lipped, not struggling for breath, not shivering, ice in his hair.

Their eyes met. Rose smiled hesitantly. She put her arms around him, and he kissed her, as if no time had passed. The crowed began applauding, but neither of them heard it at first.

"Is that for us?" Rose whispered.

"Some people applaud at weddings," Jack whispered back.

"Does that mean I can stay?"

"You can stay," he said. "I've been waiting for you, Rose."

The End

AN: The part where Rose says, "I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now, only in my memory," has always been one of the saddest for me. Memories fade so fast. So, I rewrote it.