Epilogue
Gabriel sat beside her on the bench as the autumn sun sank below the horizon. She couldn’t watch the sunset, couldn’t see the golden light as it spread out across the sky, but she could feel the warmth of its rays on her face, and it felt good.
He wouldn’t let her go outside during the day, fearful that the midday sun might damage her new skin. He wouldn’t let her spend much time alone, either. She didn’t mind that. In fact, she was grateful for it. The memories of what had happened were still too immense to face alone. Her body might have healed, but her mind hadn’t. Not yet.
‘You’re quiet,’ she said.
‘I was just thinking,’ he replied. ‘About her. About them.’
‘How is she?’
‘She’s dying. But she’s happy.’
‘Is she in pain?’
‘A little – just the usual pains of old age. But you know what? She’s not going to die today. Nor next week, most likely.’
‘She sacrificed so much.’ Hannah fought to steady her emotions. As much as anything, the salt of her tears would sting.
‘She’s happy, Hannah. That’s the funny thing. My mother and Sebastien. It’s incredible. She may have a week, maybe a year. How old is he? Eighty? He has no time either. Yet it’s as if they’re twenty-somethings again.’
The wind blew, and it brought the scent of autumn fruit. Hannah knew that he watched her. Self-consciously she raised a hand to her face, to the bandages over her eyes. ‘Don’t.’
‘What?’
‘Look at me.’
‘You’re going to be all right, you know.’
She took a breath. ‘I miss him so badly, Gabe. Every hour. Every second. Nate’s dead. I know that. I know I’ll never see him again. Not in this life, at least. But I’m still in love with him.’ She heard her voice crack. ‘I’ll always be in love with him.’
‘And that’s just as it should be.’
She reached out to him and found his arm, his hand. ‘You’ve been so good to us. So patient.’
‘I’ve got plenty of time on my hands.’
She could hear the grin on his lips and suddenly she found herself laughing. ‘If everything I’ve heard is true, we’ve both got plenty of that.’
‘Do you remember the night, in the kitchen, when I showed you the
lélekfeltárás
?’
‘What about it?’
‘I saw something in your eyes. Or thought I did. Just a flicker. For the briefest moment. And then it was gone.’
‘Well, you won’t be seeing it again.’
While they had been able to restore her life, she would not regain her sight.
‘There are other things I can teach you. Things I can teach Leah. When you’re both ready.’
‘I’m not sure, Gabriel. I’m not sure I want that.’
‘You might. In time.’
And he was right. She might. ‘What I don’t understand,’ Hannah said. ‘When I talked to your mother, she said it was impossible. Someone like me, I mean. Said that no one could be conceived that way.’
‘It’s what we thought. No, it’s what we knew. A hundred times over. I can’t explain it; I can’t explain
you
. None of us can. You shouldn’t exist, Hannah, and yet you do.’ He laughed sheepishly. ‘We’re calling you a miracle.’
‘I’m no miracle,’ she said. ‘But it’s given you hope, hasn’t it? It’s given you all a shred of hope. For a future, I mean.’
Gabriel was silent for a while. Quietly, he said, ‘That depends on you.’
She didn’t know what to say to that. So she squeezed his hand instead.
‘You haven’t told me what you learned from Seb,’ he said.
Hannah shrugged. ‘He says my father worked it out. From the diaries. Don’t ask me how. Do you remember I told you about Albert and Anna? My great-grandfather and great-grandmother? They lived in Sopron, fled to Germany when Jakab tracked them down. For a time, while he was preparing to kill Albert, Jakab supplanted him. Just like he supplanted my father. And when Anna fell pregnant, it was Jakab’s baby growing in her belly.’
‘Which means Jakab was your ancestor. Your great-grandfather, in fact. Do you think he knew?’
‘No. And I don’t think it would have made much difference if he had. He was too corrupted by that point. Too insane.’ She shuddered. ‘Come on. I don’t want to hear his name any more. He’s dead. Gone. Out of our lives forever. Where’s Leah? Have you seen her?’
From the trees, Hannah heard a rustle of movement.
‘I’m here.’
‘Have you been sitting there all along?’
‘Mostly.’
‘Come over here, scamp.’
The aroma of toffee and chocolate. Of salty skin.
‘What have you been doing?’
‘Starting a diary,’ the girl replied. ‘One of my own.’