It takes my frozen eyes a few minutes to process what I am seeing. It's a ship, right alongside us. I can see her passengers peering over the railings at us. A net-like basket device is thrown at us. The weakest, me included, were pushed into the basket and lifted to the deck. After I was freed from it I was brought to a dining room. It was set up buffet-style, with tables in the middle and stations set up against the wall. There were stations for blankets, food, and brandy/cigars. I sit at the first table and wait for Jack. Cal is one of the first to enter after me. He must've been lifted in the basket with weak-looking women around him. But he didn't look weak at all! Some man he is.

I was surprised, the giddy jump my heart used to make when seeing his handsome face did not happen. That's a first! But I was only surprised, not disappointed. Over the past few hours I had slowly carved out the part of my heart that had been reserved for him. My suspicions on the lifeboat were confirmed when I noticed Cal was not carrying the girl. Knowing him, he probably left her on the lifeboat.

Should I tell Jack?

I make to get up from the table but a strict-looking officer named Stone pushed me gently back down into my seat. It was a good thing he did because a mob of survivors walked through the double doors right after. Jack was a part of them. He spotted me and walked over. To my delight, he had both children following him.

"Cal is a jerk," was his greeting to me, "He just handed her off to a passenger as soon as he stepped on board."

He walked over to the blanket table and got a couple for the children and for himself. I sneak a look at my ex-fiancée, who is smoking a cigar and accepting a brandy from a steward. He shrugs off the blanket around his shoulders and looks about the room. I turn back so he won't see me.

"May we keep them?"

Jack glances at the children, who are playing on the floor, and smiles.

* * * * * * * * * *

We don't know their names! An attendance list is being brought around, and the officer holding it is three tables away.

"Jack, what are their names?" The girl looks a bit like an Anna. The boy is harder to name. Neither of them speak English, and I doubt the names of the third-class passengers were accurately recorded anyway, so I suggest to Jack the names Anna for the girl and Erik for the boy. He considers it, and nods discreetly as the officer moves to our table.

"Names please?"

Jack points to each of us as he says our name. The officer jots them down, checks the spelling (he had to change "Eric" to "Erik") and moves on.

* * * * * * * * * *

"How innocent they are…" I whisper to Jack. The two children look as peaceful as sleeping cherubs. Their tiny chests move up and down in unison as they dream of pleasant times and happy things. "They probably don't even know the severity of what happened."

Jack kisses my hand. "Maybe that's best for them."

I close my eyes, a bit unnerved by the darkness. It reminds me too much of that night; that night with no stars, and the black water churning all about me, threatening to suck me down. I rest my head against Jack's shoulder and welcome sleep like an old friend.

* * * * * * * * * *

The compassion of the Carpathia's passengers and crew is unsurpassable. A woman gave me an extra dress to wear, and her daughter gave Anna her teddy bear. A male passenger gave Erik his sons' jacket, but since Erik wouldn't part with his (probably his fathers', it was much too big for him) we kept it in a duffel bag given to us. A steward even offered to shine Jack's shoes for free. We were all so touched by Captain Rostron's kindness and dedication to our safety, a makeshift trophy was made for him. Someone passed a spare lifejacket around and those who could sign it, did. Little Erik and Anna just scribbled on it. Tears of happiness fell from Captain Rostron's eyes when Maggie Brown presented it to him on behalf of everyone. He said it was his pleasure to have come to our rescue and he wishes the best for everyone. He also announced that tonight there will be a candlelit memorial service for all the lost. I consider Mother and Cal as part of them.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Statue of Liberty is a marvel, a wonder I will never tire of seeing. Just being around it has me in awe of its beauty. It's funny how a simple statue can instill hope into someone's heart.

"Jack, can we live in New Jersey?"

He gives me that cute confused look he tends to give me when I ask the impossible.

"Why not New York?"

I tell him it's because my mother will most likely live in New York and we can't risk running into her.

"Well, don't you want to become an actress? Why don't we move to California?"

Not my idea of great living, but I agree—on the stipulation that we travel back here every April __th. To pay homage to this site, you know?

"The Statue of Liberty? Why the Statue of Liberty?"

'Because __ nights ago I'd never thought I'd see it. And I don't mean as a free woman like now; I thought I'd never see it at all. And it means so much to me that we are seeing it now, together. And nothing, or no one, is going to stop us."

It's just like they say, 'You never know the worth of water until the well is dry.'