Five minutes later, Gabriel pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped out onto the sidewalk, Sara holding on to the crook of his elbow. The bag of Anne’s ashes was in his other hand.

“It’s just beautiful out,” Sara said, pausing to breathe in deeply. “It’s not too hot.”

“What should we do today?” he asked her, unable to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. Twice. And a third time for good measure.

“I want to look for a job. It’s time for me to go back to work in a lab.”

She spoke with an easy conviction and Gabriel was pleased to hear it.

“And arrange to ship my stuff here.”

He looked at her in amusement as they started to head down toward Chartres Street. “Are we going to need a bigger apartment?”

“No. I like this apartment.”

“We’ll have more room if I sell my absinthe spoon collection.” Not that it took up any space really, but it was the segue he’d been looking for, a way to reassure her his addictions were a thing of the past.

She glanced up at him. “Only if you want to.”

He nodded. “It’s time.” That was the past, and he wanted to embrace the power and beauty of living in the now.

They walked in the warmth, Sara’s sandals shuffling on the sidewalk, her sky blue skirt billowing around her legs, crossing through Jackson Square. He could leave New Orleans now, but he wouldn’t. It was home.

As they climbed up the hill to cross the tracks and reach the river, an old man approached them with a smile.

He held out a vibrant pink flower to Sara. “Have a wonderful day, precious,” he said, with a nod of his head and a hand flourish.

“Thank you,” she said and accepted the offering with a bright, warm smile.

Gabriel tried to tip the man, but he waved him off. When Gabriel turned to say something to Sara, tears were in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a hot pink carnation,” she said. “My mother’s favorite flower.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, but she shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s good. It’s a sign. She’s telling me she’s okay.”

Sara stopped in front of the river, not on the observation steps that were crowded with tourists, but fifty feet away. They were above the river, not in direct contact with the water, but the privacy worth the distance.

Removing the tie to the bag, Gabriel tipped it over and watched as Anne’s remains drifted down through the air. Sara tossed the carnation after, and its weight pulled it faster so that it caught up with the ashes and intermingled among them, until they collectively descended into the water.

Fallen.

Gabriel took Sara’s hand into his and walked away from the river.