THE LAST HOUR OF SEVEN BELLS

The Dream Again

That night, Nora dreamed of Lena again.

They were standing on the beach, the same one from the photograph, the one where they had been laughing, young, happy. The sun was warm, the sand was soft, the water was blue. Lena was wearing a white dress, her hair blowing in the wind, her eyes bright.

“Hello, Nora,” she said.

“Lena.”

“You came back.”

“I always come back.”

“I know. That’s why I love you.”

Nora’s eyes burned.

“I love you too.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because I miss you.”

“I miss you too. But I’m not gone. I’m here. In your heart. In your memories. In the love you carry.”

---

Nora looked at the sea.

The waves were gentle.

The horizon was wide.

“I found him,” she said.

“Who?”

“The man who killed you.”

“I know.”

“You knew?”

“I’ve always known. I’ve been watching. Waiting. Hoping.”

“Hoping for what?”

“Hoping you would find him. Hoping you would stop him. Hoping you would move on.”

---

Nora shook her head.

“I can’t move on.”

“You can. You just don’t want to.”

“Same thing.”

“No. Fear is not wanting to. Love is being afraid and doing it anyway.”

---

The sun began to set.

The sky turned orange and pink and purple.

Lena smiled.

It was a real smile, warm and bright and full of love.

“I have to go now.”

“Where?”

“Back. To the place where I’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For you. To live. To love. To let go.”

---

Nora reached for her.

Her hand passed through.

Lena was gone.

The beach was empty.

The sun had set.

The world was dark.

---

She woke.

The room was dark.

The rain was falling.

The clock on the nightstand read 3:03 AM.

She sat up.

She looked at the window.

The glass was wet.

The world was blurred.

She did not cry.

She was done crying.

She was ready to live.

---

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