The steerage deck of theCarpathia was covered with grieving widows and fatherless children. The survivors seemed to be in shock and disbelief that their loved ones had perished on an "unsinkable" ship.

Rose watched two steerage children laughing and playing a game. She envied their ability to block out the horror that had occurred, but she could not. She was angry with God because He had finally given her a chance at true happiness and then snatched it away. She was angry with all the people who had said, "God himself could not sink this ship." It was as if God wanted to prove mankind wrong. But why should He punish her? she asked herself.

Rose knew her anger would eventually pass, and she would get over it, but she would never get over the feeling that a part of her had been ripped away. That was a wound that would never heal. "You're strong," Jack had told her in the gym of theTitanic. She kept repeating that over and over to herself, knowing that it was the only way she could keep calm. She couldn't let her beloved Jack down; she had to keep her promise -- it was too important. Realizing the sacrifice that Jack had made for her, she would make every moment of that wonderful gift he gave to her count. The tears finally started to come. Slowly at first, and then becoming gentle sobs.

Jack was starting to adjust to his new world. Tommy and Fabrizio were there and it helped him to have their companionship. It was beautiful. It was warm, but not too warm -- just perfect. The colors in the sky were the most brilliant shades of pink and blues he had ever seen. The grass was a lush green and he could lay down in it and gaze up at the sky all day. It was almost paradise. It was perfect except that one thing was missing, his beautiful Rose. Tommy and Fab were lucky, he thought. They died with no unfinished work. But souls like himself and Thomas Andrews seemed tortured and could not rest. At least Jack knew that his job would be done after Rose had lived a long life and joined him in eternity. But the others, such as Thomas Andrews, Captain Smith, and Officer Murdoch, seemed not quite sure what they had left unfinished. If they did know, they seemed unsure of what to do about it.

Jack felt Rose's feelings of anger subside, only because they were replaced with the raw pain of her loneliness. He had never felt so helpless in his whole existence. He could not reach out his arms to hold her and make it better, nor even help her; at least not the way he wished. Hovering next to her, he once again forgot his lack of physical presence and reached to brush away a tear that was sliding down her cheek.

Rose felt something come over her, the warmth that she had felt in the lifeboat had returned. Jack, she thought, he's near. She looked around, her eyes begging to find him in the throngs of people, but didn't find him. "I love you, Jack, and I won't let you down," she said softly. She drew in a deep breath of the salty air. It was then that it occurred to her what a beautiful day it had turned out to be.

"You won't find any of your people back here, sir. It's all steerage," Jack and Rose heard at the same time.

"That bastard!" they both thought at the same moment.

To Rose's amazement, she felt as if Jack was thinking the same thing as she was. She felt a shiver run up her spine. Was it possible that their connection was even stronger than death? The idea filled her with comfort and confusion at the same time. Yes, I know he's with me. I know it with all my heart, she thought.

Jack thought that Cal must have survived. Like Cal had told him, "I always win, Jack, one way or another." Jack figured he had found a way to win. He sensed Rose's fear and apprehension.

Rose saw Cal and couldn't believe it. He really was an unimaginable bastard. She noted what a disheveled mess he was as he walked around the steerage area, a place he would normally not be caught dead in. Under different circumstances, she would've found this humorous, since he had always prided himself on his polished appearance and his upper-crust socialization.

Rose huddled underneath the dreadful blanket she was given the night before, not wanting Cal to see her. As far as she was concerned, Rose Dewitt Bukater had died on the Titanic, and Rose Dawson had been born; she and Jack were now one. She prayed that Cal wouldn't see her red hair.

It looked as if Cal was not going to give up. If she were alive, he would find her. She was his promised wife, and therefore, in his mind, his property. His intense expression told Rose that if it were necessary for him to search every inch of steerage to find her, then he would do it! Suddenly, a stiff breeze blew across the deck, so hard it nearly knocked Cal over.

"Leave her alone! Let her be!" Jack shouted in Cal's ear.

Deep furrows spread across Cal's forehead, as a chill ran up his spine, making him shudder.

"Dawson?" he hissed, just above a whisper, glancing quickly back over his shoulder, first to the left and then the right. A look of fear mixed with sadness spread across his face. He shook his head. "This is futile," he said softly, "She's gone, and I need to tell her mother."

"It's all right now, Rose. He will never bother you again," Jack said to Rose.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered.