The Rain won't Last Forever

Jack's Epilogue:

I first met Emma when I was ten years old.

After my parents passed away, I had no choice but to live with my aunt. But my aunt’s financial situation was dire; she simply couldn’t afford to take care of me. We endured those impoverished days, day by day.

Then, a welfare organization reached out to me. They told me that a generous benefactor had donated money to support my education.

Her name was Emma Enders.

I was overjoyed, envisioning her as a kindly aunt or a benevolent elderly lady. Every time she sent a donation, she always included a note:

“Keep going, Jackie. Take good care of yourself.”

It was the kind of caring only a true elder could express.

A few times, I considered calling her to let her know I had just scored first in my class again.

But the welfare organization said they didn’t have her phone number and couldn’t get in touch with her.

But the donations continued to arrive on time each month.

I thought, if she didn’t want to take my calls, I would wait until I was older and find her myself. That was how I ended up in Nightfall.

I never expected that the mysterious benefactor would turn out to be a girl close to my own age.

By then, she appeared completely frail, on the brink of death. She dragged her weakened body from one organization to another.

After some inquiries, I discovered that she was looking for a hospice caregiver.

I thought, this might be my only chance to repay her.

So, after twelve years, I finally stood before her.

“Hello, I’m Jack Hamilton, the hospice caregiver you requested.”

After Oliver set himself on fire, I took away Emmy's ashes. But I didn’t keep the promise to scatter them in the sea right away.

Instead, I traveled across the country with her ashes. I wanted her to see more of the world's beauty, so I selfishly kept her by my side.

We watched sunsets together and greeted sunrises side by side.

Over the course of a year, we traveled everywhere, from mountains and rivers to lakes and seas, with Emmy’s presence making the journey complete.

I brought her back to Pearl Shore Isle, the place where she was born and raised, yet filled with countless regrets.

On a clear, windless morning, I took her ashes to the seaside.

“Emmy, I’m sorry I’m late. I’m taking you home.”

I raised my hand and the salty sea breeze whisked away the last traces of her presence from my fingertips, like a delicate veil drifting out of reach.

It soared towards freedom.

A hooded figure stood at a distance, tears streaming down his face, afraid to approach.

His face, hidden beneath the hood, was scarred from burns, his eyes both murky and clear.

I looked up and forced a pained smile, choosing to ignore him.

A raindrop the size of a bean fell from the sky, seeming to land right in my eye.

Then came another gentle drizzle.

The small boat moored at the seaside dock rocked in the wind and rain, its thick ropes creaking against the wooden piles.

I stretched out my hand to catch the cool rain.

I remembered the scrawled, crooked words she had left me at the end of her diary:

“Jackie, the rain won’t last forever. Live well.”