The New year's Celebration

They escape to the island on a fast rescue boat.

Life goes on for those who still breathe.

Life ceases for those who now lie cold and bloodied.

The sun rises once more. A new day begins. Yesterday ends—but the memories linger.

This day ends the curse of the old year.

With the dawn comes a rain of blessings upon the land.

Neva peers ahead, her ears catching the faint, magical sounds.

In the island air, joy seems to shimmer—light and ethereal. The new year's light spills across the streets, filling hearts with hopes and wishes for the future.

Enchanted music dances on the breeze. A mystical harmony swells from an unseen ensemble—violin, flute, oboe, clarinet, marimba, triangle, tambourine, and handclaps—each one casting its own gentle spell.

Rhett gazes at Neva, solemn as he watches her distant, vacant eyes. Her lashes are swollen and red. She hasn't slept the entire ride—drowning in quiet agony—while he could only offer her a shoulder to lean on.

"We'll need to sneak through the crowd," he murmurs, glancing down at their bloodstained clothes.

Neva lifts her gaze briefly to meet his, then looks away and gives a silent nod.

He takes her hand and holds it tight as they move forward—slipping into the festive throng, dissolving into the flow of strangers.

There are no skyscrapers here.

No glittering restaurants.

And yet, the old brick buildings, with their colorful tiles and straw roofs, feel like something out of a childhood film.

The ground is paved with rough concrete. Tiny stalls line the streets—portable and lively.

Two swan-shaped fountains pour crystal water into a basin where children laugh and play without a care in the world.

Vines and fresh flowers drape the streets for the New Year's celebration, lit by soft, natural lanterns. The whole scene glows with a quiet, humble beauty.

But Neva is too lost in grief to notice any of it.

Fortunately, no one pays them much attention. They stop in front of a small clothing shop.

Rhett wears a black shirt, his jacket draped over Neva's blood-soaked sweater to keep it hidden.

"Welcome, welcome, dear customers! Happy New Year!" the shopkeeper—a small, aged woman—greets them, her eyes crinkling in delight.

"Happy New Year," Rhett replies politely.

The old woman's eyes rest on Neva, scanning her intently. Her smile widens, as if she sees through everything.

Neva bites her lower lip, weary. Rhett gently pulls her behind him, shielding her with his tall frame.

The old woman's brow furrows at first—but then a soft laugh escapes her lips.

"What a charming couple. Isn't your wife a beauty?"

"She is," he says quietly, a thin smile playing on his lips.

Then he turns slightly to glance at Neva's tired face.

The shopkeeper beams. "How may I help you, my dears?"

"We'd like to browse some clothes, please," he says.

"Of course, come in, come in! Help yourselves," she says, waving them warmly inside her small cottage shop.

"Gladly," Rhett replies. He grips Neva's hand firmly, leading her in.

.

.

.

A while later, with shopping bags in hand, Rhett slides his purse back into his jeans pocket.

"Is there a motel nearby?" he asks the old woman.

"Motel? Hmm. Well, there's a homestay just down the street—you'll find it easily," she replies.

"Thank you," he nods.

They begin to walk away when her voice calls out cheerfully behind them,

"Have a wonderful New Year, my dears!"

Rhett glances back over his shoulder and offers a final nod.