Newt

“Remember her?” Brenda said quietly, fingering a tattered piece of paper.

Everyone froze. It was that very letter.

“Of course we remember,” Thomas answered, lowering his eyes.

Brenda unfolded the letter and began to read it aloud, even though everyone already knew it by heart. It was a tradition. A ritual.

"Dear friends, if you are reading this, I am most likely dead..."

"...I'm not afraid to die, at least for you..."

"...You deserve to live happily. And remember - I am alive as long as you still remember me."

Silence. Only the wind rustled the paper in Brenda’s hands. And then…

• Why are they all so sour?

Their hearts stopped. Slowly, not believing their ears, they turned to the source of the voice. And they saw you.

— Is this… a hallucination? — Thomas whispered.

“It can’t be that everyone at once...” Frypan squeezed out.

Newt didn't move. He just stared, as if he was afraid that if he blinked, you would disappear. But you didn't. Instead, you took a step forward, your smile turning a little sad.

— I told you in the letter... as long as you remember me, I’m alive.

And then Newt rushed towards you. He hugged you so tightly, as if he wanted to make sure this wasn't a dream.

• You... but how? - his voice was shaking, there were tears in his eyes.

You laughed, but with pain.

— It's a long story.

• We are ready to listen.