By the fourth day I was anxious for all my memories to come back. I forced myself to lose my fear of them. I wanted them out in the open. No matter who I turned out to be, I was ready to face it. It was then the miracle happened. My entire life came back to me, not in fragments, but in one whole piece. I remembered the farm in Donegal where I grew up. I saw my da sitting in silence by the fire, and my ma talking away to me about my future. And I saw Delia sitting on a white rock in the field, nose in a book, just as I had seen her in an earlier image. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized she was my sister. I had been feeling so alone these last months that the fact I had a sister overwhelmed me. I saw my bedroom in the cottage and realized that the woman kneeling beside the bed with the candles all around it was my ma.

I sat straight up in bed. Dear God, my parents must think I was dead. The thought sent shivers through me. I wondered if Delia was dead too. I’d not seen her since she ran after me on the boat, calling out my name. And I remembered Robert, the sweet lad who had taken me to breakfast in the first-class dining room. Was he dead as well?

The next morning I got out of bed and went over to the window. I drew back the curtains and looked out on the front garden. It was a beautiful day, and the sunlight flitted through the tree branches, playing peekaboo. I felt light, as if a great burden had lifted from me, the same feeling I always had after I’d been to confession. I had finally remembered where I came from, and my family, and the journey to the Titanic. I even remembered the name of the man I was to work for: Aidan O’Hanlon.

I had remembered my sister, Delia, but along with the memory came the fact that Ma and I had treated her like a servant. I could hardly believe I had acted like that, and I was ashamed. I wondered again: Was she dead or alive? I decided I would look on the survivor list. But there was likely to be more than one Delia; it was then I had to face the fact that, while I had remembered everything else, I still hadn’t remembered my own name. And without knowing our last name, how would I find out about Delia?

As I stared out the window, I saw Mrs. Shaw’s car coming noisily up the driveway. She jumped out and, as usual, rushed toward the house. I realized then how fond I was of this woman. She’d been so good to me; what would have happened if she hadn’t taken pity on me?