APRIL 16th, 1912:
It still feels like a dream, and yet I am convinced there is no waking up.
We are aboard the Carpathia, headed to New York. The Captain has done all he can to provide for us. Soup and hot drinks were offered from the moment we arrived onboard. Pursers and some stewards took our names and situated us in whatever rooms they could find. We’ve been offered officer’s cabins, as well as the library and smoking rooms.The ship’s doctor turned each dining room into a hospital. Many are wounded or ill, as you might imagine. I have been feverish, but will recover. It will take some time, the doctor tells me, before my body will stop shaking. Still, I am alive, and so is Nathan. He mourns for his mother, and for James, and has so many unanswered questions. Perhaps, when we arrive in New York, he will get the answers he needs. Until then, he puts on a brave front, caring for me with great tenderness and sweeping Jessie, Annie and Iris under his wing, as well.
We will be at sea for two more days, arriving in New York on the 18th. What awaits us there, I cannot say. I only know that we are alive. Our hearts are heavy, but we are alive.
