"I'll go back for her," you cry heroically, but Paul seizes your arm. "It's too dangerous," he says. "Why sacrifice all our lives? We have to cut our losses, and go on." You have to agree. You and Paul build a log cabin in NY and start a sort of halfway house for other escaping tourists. Each morning you scatter flower petals on Laura's memorial bench. Your life is spent doing good, important work, but sometimes when the wind seems to whistle "Laura... Laura..." you can't help but feeling guilty. And for some reason her heart keeps beating underneath the floorboards, but after you move to a different cabin that's sorted out.


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