Elina frowned.
“What gift?”
“His old letters to your mother. Photos. Recordings. He wanted me to help restore them. There was a tape, an old one, damaged. He recorded it when you were one year old. He wanted you to hear his voice if one day…”
Mark’s voice broke.
Elina stood motionless. The sound of the water suddenly became too loud.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he asked me not to. He wanted to do it himself. That day, I picked up the restored recording. I was on my way to the hospital. Then, at an intersection, a truck ran a red light. The taxi was hit from the side. My phone shattered. I lost consciousness for about twenty minutes. When I woke up, the driver was screaming, blood was running down my face, and I was trying to get out because I knew you were waiting.”
Elina took a step back.
“No.”
“I got there on foot. Then I caught another car. Then there was traffic again. I arrived too late.”
She stared at him as if the ground under her feet had suddenly turned thin and glassy.
“Why did you stay silent for eight months?”
He smiled faintly, but there was nothing alive in that smile.
“Because when I walked into the hospital, you looked at me like I had killed him. And I thought… maybe you were right.”
“Mark…”
“I should have been there earlier. I should have charged an old phone. I should have asked someone to call you. I should have done a thousand things. But I didn’t. And when you said, ‘not now,’ I decided I deserved it.”
Elina covered her mouth with her hand.
At that moment, somewhere far above the city, a light flashed.
At first, no one understood.
An orange-white streak cut across the sky with such brightness that it looked as if the sun had mistaken the hour and decided to rise in the west. People on the waterfront froze. Someone raised a phone. Someone laughed, thinking it was fireworks or a rocket launch.
But the light grew.
It did not disappear.
It became wider, brighter, more terrifying.
The ferry in the bay sounded a long, warning horn.
Mark lifted his head.
“What is that?..”
Elina turned toward the city.
The sky above Manhattan split open.
A massive ball of fire tore through the clouds, leaving behind a tail of smoke, ash, and burning debris. For one second, everything became unbelievably beautiful — almost divine. The pink sky, the golden water, the Statue of Liberty, the skyscrapers, and above them a falling star far too large for a wish.
Then came the sound.
Not the explosion yet.
A roar.
Low, deep, the sound of the planet itself groaning.
People screamed.
The fireball struck somewhere beyond the line of skyscrapers.
The flash was so bright that Elina instinctively shut her eyes. For a moment, the world disappeared. Only white remained. White like hospital walls. White like the sheet over her father’s face. White like the emptiness between two people who had stayed silent for too long.
And then the city began to vanish.
First one skyscraper trembled. Then another. Behind them, a wall of dust and fire rose into the sky. It grew over Manhattan like a black wing. Glass sparkled in the air. A huge cloud unfolded, devouring streets, rooftops, towers.
“Oh my God,” Elina whispered.
Everyone’s phones vibrated at once.
Sirens.
Alerts.
Screams.
Mark pulled out his phone. The screen flashed red.
EMERGENCY ALERT. CELESTIAL BODY IMPACT. SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. SHOCKWAVE…
The message cut off.
The signal disappeared.
The water began to tremble strangely. The ferry tried to turn, but there was nowhere to go anymore. Birds burst from the trees all at once, a dark frightened cloud. People ran along the waterfront, shoving each other, falling, calling for children, parents, lovers.
Elina did not run.
She stared at the growing wall of dust.
Mark grabbed her hand.
“We have to go!”
She did not move.
“Where?”
He looked around. Behind them was an open walkway, a few trees, benches, tourists, concrete, water. No real shelter. No escape from what was already coming.
The shockwave was moving across the bay.
At first, it looked like fog.
Then like a storm.
Then it became clear: it was not a storm.
It was the end.
The water in front of Manhattan rose in a massive fold. The ferry rocked like a toy. A white line raced across the surface of the bay, wide and fast. The air ahead of it shimmered.
Mark slowly let go of Elina’s hand.
They both understood.
They had minutes.
Maybe less.
Elina turned to him. There was no anger in her eyes anymore. Only terror. And something else — realization, arriving too late.
“We…” she could not finish.
Mark nodded.
“Yes.”
A woman ran past them with a child in her arms. A man screamed into a phone with no signal: “Mom! Mom, answer me!” Someone fell to their knees. Someone prayed. Someone simply stood still, like them.
Elina suddenly laughed.
Quietly. Brokenly. Almost madly.