"June? June, can you hear me?" Boxhall's voice, clear and much too loud, came to my ears. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Boxhall and Lowe were sitting beside me, looking at me apprehensively. They seemed pale and tired, but relieved to see me awake. I was lying in a bed, covered by warm blankets. My right hand was bandaged. "Where, where am I?", I managed to ask, confused. I tried to sit up.
"You're safe", Boxhall soothed me, gently pushing me back onto the bed. "We're on the Carpathia."
"You've been unconscious for the last day", Lowe told me. "We were worried."
"How do you feel?", Boxhall wanted to know. I just looked at him. I didn't know what to answer. In one night I had lost my love, my father, everything that meant something to me. What was there to say?
"How are the others?", I asked instead. "Lightoller, Pitman ..."
"They're fine", Lowe assured me. "They are in the dining room, drinking tea."
"And Wilde?"
Boxhall and Lowe exchanged glances. They didn't need to answer. "Oh", I heard myself say. Wilde too ...
I tried to remember something important. Something vital. Bride! If nothing in this world mattered anymore, he at least still did.
"How is Bride?", I asked. Boxhall and Lowe fell silent. I started to tremble. What if it had been too late, what if Bride had already been to weak when he came to the Carpathia? What if - I remembered him, unconscious on the deck. No, no please, not him too!
"He's fine", Boxhall finally answered. "He was in pretty bad shape, but the doctor is optimistic."
"I want to see him", I said, not looking up. At first, Boxhall and Lowe didn't want to let me go. "You need to rest", Lowe reminded me. "You're not strong enough right now", Boxhall added. "You should stay in bed." But I was determined. In the end, a nurse showed me to Bride's room.
"He's asleep right now", she told me. "How is he?", I asked. The nurse sighed. "He has frostbites on his toes and feet and some injuries on his knees", she replied. "We were also worried about his fever, but it is going down now. He won't be able to walk for a few weeks, but we're optimistic that with the right care and enough rest he's going to make a full recovery soon."
"That is good"; I said to myself. He would be fine ...
The nurse opened the door for me. "The poor boy will feel better when he sees a friendly face when he wakes up", she said sympathetically. I stepped inside. At the other end of the room I saw a bed. There, underneath a pile of cushions and blankets lay Harold Bride. My heart made a short jump when I saw him. His face was white as freshly fallen snow. And how thin and fragile he looked!
I sat on the chair beside his bed. Bride was sleeping, the look of peaceful oblivion on his face. What would he say when he woke up and would learn that his best friend was dead? Or did he already know what happened to Jack? What was I to say to him?
"I'm so sorry, Bride", I whispered. "I should have been stronger, I should have saved Jack ... I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect him ..." I would have started to cry, when I suddenly heard a tiny voice say my name. "June ...?"
"Bride!" I forced myself to smile, as I grabbed his hand. "You're awake! How do you feel?"
"Mangled", Bride replied, smiling weakly back at me. "But I'm better now." His brown eyes searched mine. "You're here ..." I nodded. "I wanted to see you", I replied, although I knew what Bride really meant. That I was alive ...
"But you're hurt!", Bride said, pointing to my bandaged hand. I quickly hid it in my lap. "It's nothing", I assured him. Bride's voice was trembling.
