The Lightkeepers

31

that all came crashing down around me, much like the crumbling buildings across the water. They

were fragile. I was still waiting patiently for a gust of wind to topple one over, though it never

happened. They were cracked and shattered, though they remained standing, even if a little

lopsided.

I left my plate where it sat and climbed back up to join Henry on the catwalk. The sun was

warm, and it was one of those pleasant days that whispered summer. The Freedom Tower stood,

its metal and mirrored facade glistening. It survived, even now. We survived, despite the odds, and

rebuilt our lives the best we could with what we had. Much like that tower, this lighthouse became

a symbol for us. It would be our beginning and something ’ s end. Maybe ours.

But for now, it was our fortress and beacon of hope. Surely if these buildings survived, we

could too.

“ Do you think there ’re others? ” I asked.

Henry glanced at me and smiled softly. “ I like to think so. ”

Society had crumbled. Seven billion people were tested and torn apart. I knew of four

survivors, myself included. Surely there were other pockets of civilization, however crude or

broken. It didn ’ t do well to dwell on things we didn ’ t know.

My grandfather’s words from my dream all those months ago had echoed in my mind like

a loop. Though he’d never actually said those exact words to me, they came to me again, his voice

distinct from my memories. Let go, Rae .

So, I did. I stopped focusing on then or later and saw only the now. I chose to believe that

there were others, just like us, and forgot to worry about what might be lurking. I chose fond

memories over creating nightmares. I stopped trying to be brave, pretending to be okay. I chose to

be human. Flawed, unsure, vulnerable.

Human.