Rose walked from the dock in New York. "This is it, Rose. Your new life," she told herself.

"May I take your name please, love?" a man with an umbrella asked her.

"Dawson. Rose Dawson," she replied. She stood there for a minute, gazing at the Statue of Liberty, for what seemed like the first time. I really am free, she thought. She shoved her hands in her pockets, but instead of the seams of the bottoms, she felt something hard, and deathly cold. She pulled it out. There it was. The Heart of the Ocean. She couldn't believe it! This held memories. Memories of Cal. Memories of Jack. Memories of Titanic. She clutched it in her fist, and moved to cast it out into the ocean, but stopped. Eyes closed, she released the breath she had been holding, and dropped it back in the pocket.

"Extra! Extra! Titanic, the unsinkable ship, sinks!" a newsboy cried out. Rose walked over to him, and placed a dime in his hand. The boy nodded his head in thanks, and handed her a paper. She walked to Central Park, and sat on the bench. In bold headlines, it read


Rose skimmed through it, until she found the list of confirmed survivors. Then, she found a short piece on, most surprisingly, herself.

Rose Dewitt-Bukater, fiancée of Caledon Hockley, perished with the other 1,500 souls that did not reach safety. Her funeral service is to be privately held on the following Saturday.

Rose reread the lines before her. Rose Dewitt-Bukater perished. That sounded right to her.

Because Rose Dewitt-Bukater had died on the Titanic. But Rose Dawson had not. Rose Dawson was just beginning. Smiling to herself, she placed the paper in the wastebasket, and walked away.