Samantha shifted in the front seat of Mr. Pryde's automobile, counting down the miles until they reached the Seafarer Bed and Breakfast. After nine years, she might finally be able to answer the question haunting her since waking up in Eternity: Who am I? So many years she looked in the mirror, squinting to recognize anything and coming up with nothing. Now the missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle of her past might fall into place.
"Not much farther," Mr. Pryde said. He turned onto a narrow road overlooking the sea. Above, Samantha saw houses larger than Mr. Pryde's tucked among ancient trees. "Almost nobody lives up there at this time of year."
"Why not?" Samantha asked.
"The rich folks who own those go somewhere warmer until the snow melts. If you got money there ain't no reason to grub around in the snow with the rest of us," Mr. Pryde said.
"Oh. You must not like them much," Samantha said.
"It don't matter to me one way or the other." He reached into his pocket for another cigarette. "They're free to do what they want. Long as they don't bother me, we get along fine."
Samantha sensed there was more to the issue, but she didn't want to press Mr. Pryde. The road wound up, the sea obscured now by trees. The automobile was plunged into sudden darkness from the shadows, Mr. Pryde's cigarette tip the only light.
Samantha craned her neck back to look at Prudence and Wendell. They each leaned their heads against a window, a hand underneath their chins. "No matter what happens, nothing is going to change between us," she said to them. "We're always going to be friends, right?"
Prudence nodded, but Wendell didn't move. Samantha would have to speak with him later to reassure him she would always care about him and everyone else in Eternity. Finding out more about herself would help her become a better person. That discussion could wait until she spoke with Mrs. Milton.
Sunlight exploded upon the automobile as it emerged from the trees. On a cliff above the ocean, Samantha saw a sprawling white house. "That's it!" she said. Mr. Pryde nodded, but she didn't need to be reassured. She recognized the bed and breakfast as though she'd lived there her whole life.
Mr. Pryde turned off the road, but couldn't get much farther. The driveway was blocked with over two feet of snow. "Looks like you'll have to walk," he said. "You want me to come along and make sure you get up there all right?"
"I'll be fine. Do you suppose Mrs. Milton is home?"