Author's note: Thank you very much for all the reviews and messages, the epilogue will be posted tomorrow as well as the list of novels and poetry anthology I have quoted all along this story.

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Chapter Twenty-Five – Look Up At The Sky

"Do you think if I stay long enough in the sun, people will assume we've been to the Bahamas instead?"

The pout that played on Maura's lips betrayed her lack of conviction. As much as the last week of August was particularly sunny and hot, the climate of Maine had very little to do with the one of a tropical island.

She sat on her deck-chair, the shadows of the covered porch covering her naked legs.

"You should be careful. You might not have a complexion as fair as mine, an extended stay in the sun is still dangerous."

"Let me enjoy my last days of freedom."

Jane's tone of voice reached joyful nuances as she turned her head around and winked at Maura. Since they had taken the decision to go back to Boston on September 1st, every single one of her moves at the lake owned the bitterness of the last times: the last fishing trip, the last hike. The last morning run in the woods.

Everything came to an end on a sweet yet nostalgic note. It was time to move on, to renew with a life she had put into parenthesis for a long - necessary - while.

She wouldn't go back to her apartment. They had taken the decision to stay together at Maura's and if the word 'temporarily' had been thrown in the conversation, it hadn't fooled any of them. They knew that it was definitive.

They knew that it was what they wanted.

You have gone through a very tough journey, Jane. The fact you are now reaching the end might be exhilarating but you need to keep in mind that you are still fragile nonetheless. Don't succumb too easily to this surge of adrenalin you might be feeling again. Be careful. Everything isn't over yet. The distance that Maine imposed to you brought a sentiment of... Safety that you won't get once in Boston. The world had kept on turning, with all its sweet harshness. Moosehead Lake - the quietness you enjoy so much there - has little to do with what is expecting you. But you are ready for all of this, it is okay. If you show patience and wisdom then you will have no problem whatsoever to adapt again to the life in the city. I think we will resume our weekly sessions as soon as you are back. You need this Ariadne's thread. Nothing is over here. It is just the beginning.

Dr. Stepson's words slightly stressed her out. She was right – about everything, from the feelings she was having now to the delicacy of the situation – but a part of her was now obsessed with the idea of doing something wrong.

She didn't want a wakeup call because she would have rushed into things, fooled by the whirl of powerful feelings she was now experiencing. She didn't want reality to hit her with a cruel violence. She needed peace and the serenity that her relationship with Maura brought her. It was her rock. Her indispensable rock.

"You look pensive."

"How can you tell? I'm wearing sunglasses."

Jane's repartee elicited a soft smile on Maura's lips. She had missed it a lot more than what she had assumed in the first place. She had got used to Jane's mutism as she had got used to her neutral voice and the insecurity that echoed a light of uncertainty in her eyes. So after months of a dark winter of feelings, it was strange to witness Jane's renaissance.

Strange but rewarding.

Jane was rising anew, like a phoenix.

The wood creaked under Maura's feet as she walked on her tiptoes to Jane. She passed her arms around her frame and laughed as the kiss she planted on her cheek resounded loudly in the sun of the late afternoon.

"It is okay, you don't have to tell me everything." Maura leaned her chin against her lover's shoulder and focused on the lake that spread in front of them. Her heart ached; suddenly. She would miss it. "You don't have to tell me everything."

"I just think I'm lucky... I just think I'm extremely lucky."

Except this time, such realization didn't make Jane suffer the slightest bit. On the contrary. She found it beautiful and warm which was exactly what she needed. She was where she was supposed to be, with the right people. At the right time.

A smile of satisfaction lit up her features. There was nothing like having the feeling that your life was finally complete.

...

We left on a Monday morning. The sun was shining high and I was driving. It couldn't have looked more different than when we had arrived on that dark and unfriendly night of April.

Five months had passed by but this gap of time actually seemed to echo a completely different life.

As we were heading back to Boston, we were leaving behind a part of us and the memories of something extremely meaningful: the start of our relationship.

The darkness of my depression was too far for me to focus on it. I had turned the page and only wanted to keep the best from Moosehead Lake: Dan, Martha, Samuel. The fishing trips and the warmth of the sun that accompanied our smiles in the morning as it pierced through the windows of our cabin.

My nightmare had turned into a beautiful dream.

Life is like a patchwork of unexpected moments that are linked to each other. Sometimes the connections are bumpy, not so perfect. But in the end the network of feelings they create is what makes it all so worth living. We grow through our sorrows and rejoice thanks to our smiles. Life is a delicate notion, a beautiful one.

We don't know each other but there isn't a day that goes by without me to think about you. It can be eight hours like a minute or two. It took me a lot of time to finally start talking to you. I didn't have the courage it takes nor the serenity my mind needed for it. But now I'm here and ready. I don't consider it as a second chance - such word would be very inappropriate given the circumstances - but I nonetheless want to start it back from the beginning because it didn't go how it should have gone; we didn't meet the way we should have met.

My name is Jane and I am forty-one years old. I was born and raised in Boston, just like you. Quite soon, I decided that I wanted to be a part of the BPD. I worked hard for it and I became a homicide detective. It is a tough job, risky. Every day my parents worry for me but I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I love it.

You came into my life in the most cruel way one could ever imagine. Very often I wonder what you saw of me. My gun? My hands? My arms? My eyes? Unless you didn't have time to even notice my presence on this street and you just heard the deafening sound of the bullet. Medical reports say that your hemorrhage was such that it didn't take you a minute to lose consciousness but it could have lasted one second that it would be the same.

I have never wanted to do you any harm, Hannah. I have never wanted to hurt you.

My life took a dark turn as soon as yours ceased to be. Even your parents' kind words and their extraordinary brave attitude – the day of your funeral – didn't help me. People started feeling concerned by this lethargy I had embraced within a very short lapse of time so I was taken out of Boston in the hope that it would help.

It did.

I analyzed a lot of things during these five months I spent away from Massachusetts. New people came into my life and they started giving sense to the reason why I was still there. I found a spiritual guidance in literature, unexpectedly. All these words I couldn't say out loud myself but that I could read helped me in the oddest way one could ever imagine. I fed myself of their strength, of the symbols they were carrying.

Then the fog that had invaded my mind started fading away without me to even notice it. Feelings appeared. They rose with a disturbing strength that contrasted a lot with this rather precarious existence: I fell in love. Unless I just became aware of something that had been here for a while but that I had been unable to see before...

My therapist calls it a renaissance, the sentiment of living anew after a long moment of uncertainty; a long moment of doubts and dark feelings. But the truth is, I don't think it is what happened to me. What I learned in Maine is not that I was about to be born again. No. It actually made me realize that my life was simply starting now.

I just wish it hadn't taken your death for me to realize this.

I have visited your parents twice since I am back to Boston. It is strange to see that we have a lot to share but it brings us a comfort that I guess we all need. You live through us; through their memories, through this powerful desire I have to get to know who you are. They showed me your room, pictures. They have come to my place too, the house where I live with the person who made all this possible. She brought me a lot more than just moral support and if I remain silent over her it is not because there is nothing more to say but because I lack the words it would take to describe the unique importance Maura has into my life.

She is my light, the surge of hope that guided me through these dark times. And when I was on my knees - lost in the complexity of poisonous feelings - she made me look up at the sky. Over and over. Then one day I saw you there. Your eyes were wide open and you were looking at me. Peacefully.

You were smiling.

"The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive." And I know you did, Hannah.

I know you forgave me.