Last night I had a dream. I was sleeping in the raft when a noise stirred me. I looked up and the horizon was blocked by a giant ocean liner. Its white hull was enormous, dotted with portholes, and its decks were jammed with waving people, like those arriving in New York’s harbors at the turn of the century. Only somehow I knew these passengers were from the Galaxy. I heard them screaming “Where have you been?” and “We’ve been looking for you!” In the middle of them all was Dobby, with his long hair and toothy smile. He waved a bottle of champagne, motioning me to come join him.

I awoke with a jolt and squinted into the rising sun. The horizon was empty. No ocean liner. No happy passengers. Just the world’s longest straight line, from here to oblivion.

I felt my body physically deflate. At that moment, for some reason, the enormity of death began to hit me. I’m not sure why. I had never focused on dying before, Annabelle. I pushed the idea away. We all know we are going to die, but deep down, we don’t believe it. We secretly think there will be a late reprieve, a medical advance, a new drug that staves off our mortality. It’s an illusion, of course, something to shield us from our fear of the unknown. But it only works until death presents itself so plainly that you cannot ignore it.

I am at that point, my love. The end is no longer a faraway concept. I imagine all those souls who went down with the Galaxy. I picture Bernadette and Mrs. Laghari, now Nevin, all swallowed by the sea. Without rescue, the rest of us will suffer the same fate, we will perish in this raft, or in the water outside it, and one of us will watch the others go first. Man’s instinct is to find a way to live, but who wants to be the last to die?

As I was thinking this, I looked up and realized little Alice had crawled over to me. Her eyes were wide and her expression gentle, the way children sometimes look when they first wake up. A minute later, the Lord pulled himself alongside her. He looked at me, too. It made me uncomfortable.

“I don’t need company,” I said. “I’m just thinking about things.”

“Your fate,” the Lord said.

“Something like that.”

“Perhaps I can help.”

I actually laughed. “Why? If I were God, I would have given up on me long ago.”

“But you are not,” he said, “and I never will.”

He crossed his fingers in front of his lips. “Did you know that when I created this world, I made two Heavens?”

“When you created this world,” I mocked.

“Yes,” he continued. “Two Heavens.” He pointed. “Above and below. At certain moments, you can see between them.”