At breakfast, Rosa knew something was wrong.
She didn't ask—she never asked, not directly—but her eyes followed Sal around the kitchen, noting every pause, every glance toward Maria's room. She refilled his coffee without being asked. She put an extra slice of toast on his plate. She touched his shoulder when she passed, a brief pressure that said I'm here without words.
Maria came down at eight, yawning but smiling. She ate her toast with enthusiasm and talked about her dreams—happy ones this time, full of angels and ships and fish with hats. She didn't mention the voices. Neither did Sal.
At eight-thirty, someone knocked on the door.
Sal answered it to find a young man standing on his stoop. He was maybe nineteen, with a face full of acne and an expression of profound nervousness. He wore a sailor's uniform that looked like it had been slept in—probably because it had. In his hands, he clutched a small package wrapped in brown paper.
"Mr. Lombardi?" The young man's voice cracked. "I'm Tommy Miller. From the Eldridge. I don't know if you remember me, but—"
Sal remembered. The hand in the bulkhead. The voice in the steel. The promise of guardianship.
"Miller." Sal stepped aside. "Come in."
Miller hesitated on the threshold, like he wasn't sure he was allowed. Then he stepped inside, looking around the small row house with the wonder of a man seeing ordinary life for the first time.
Rosa appeared from the kitchen, took one look at the young sailor, and immediately began making more coffee. She didn't ask questions. She never asked questions.
"Sit," Sal said, gesturing to the living room. Miller sat on the edge of the sofa like he might bolt at any moment.
"I'm sorry to bother you at home," Miller began. "I know I shouldn't be here. They told us to stay away. To forget. But I had to—I needed to—" He stopped, swallowed hard. "I needed to thank you. Properly. Not through the ship. Not through... whatever that was. In person. Like a human being."
Sal sat across from him. "You don't owe me anything, son."
"I owe you everything." Miller's eyes were bright, too bright. "I was gone. I was in that metal, scattered like—like—and you pulled me back. You and that snake of yours. I don't understand how. I don't think I'll ever understand. But I'm here. I'm alive. And I had to say thank you."
He thrust the package at Sal. "It's not much. Just something from home. My mother sent it before—before everything. I want you to have it."
Sal unwrapped the package. Inside was a small wooden carving—a fish, painted in bright colors, wearing a tiny hat.
Sal stared at it.
"It's stupid, I know," Miller said quickly. "But my mother makes them. She's got a whole collection. She sends them to me so I remember there's a world outside the ship. And I thought—I thought maybe your daughter would like it. The one who drew the picture. The one who saw us."
Sal looked at the fish. At the tiny hat. At the careful, loving craftsmanship of a mother far away, praying for her son's safety.
"She'll love it," Sal said. His voice was rough. "She'll love it more than anything."
Miller nodded, relieved. He stood, suddenly awkward again. "I should go. They're watching. All of us. They don't want us talking to each other, let alone to you. But I had to come. I had to."
Sal stood too. "Miller. The others. How are they?"
Miller's face clouded. "Strange. Different. We all feel... connected. Even now. Even out of the ship. Like there's a thread between us. We can't hear each other like before, but we can feel each other. If one of us is scared, we all feel it. If one of us is happy, we all feel it." He paused. "Is that normal?"
Sal thought about it. "I don't know what normal is anymore."
Miller nodded. "Yeah. Me neither." He moved toward the door, then stopped. "Mr. Lombardi? That thing you said—about me being your daughter's guardian angel. I meant it. I don't know how, but I meant it. She's special. I could feel it. Like a light. Like the brightest thing in the room. I'll watch over her. Even if she never knows."
Before Sal could respond, Miller was gone.78Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlhzpZI9Vnd
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