Rose Dawson Calvert's knees protested aloud as she gently lowered herself
into a chair in her cabin aboard the research vessel Keldysh. As she relaxed,
Rose closed her eyes and replayed in her mind the events of the afternoon. Lizzie, Brock, Bodine - all of them - had been
enrapt as she spun her story about her time on Titanic. For Rose, it had been a
difficult tale to tell, but also a blessed release after carrying Jack inside of her for
so many years.
They had all asked her questions
concerning every detail of the ship's voyage, from those first moments so brimming with
anticipation and majesty until the final fateful hours, and when they had had their fill,
when they had heard it all, the room had become a silent vault of tears for the long
departed.
Rose had returned to her cabin shortly
afterwards feeling the weight of the long silence finally lifted from her. The freedom was
exhilarating. She slowly filled her lungs with heavy sea air, tasting its saltiness.
Opening her eyes once again, she let her gaze flitter over the photos she had spread atop
her dresser, lingering for a brief moment on each one, caressing them. The pictures had
their own stories to tell.
She smiled as she relished the time-faded
images, each a wellspring of memories. Lizzie and the rest had been fascinated with Titanic,
and Rose could surely understand that, but they hadn't asked even a single question about
what had happened to her afterwards.
That's a shame, Rose thought,
and her smile widened.
That's when the adventure that has
been my life really began
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