Epilogue
Hanna
And so, in the end, I kept my promise to Liv after all.
Euan and I were married in Lunna Kirk, and I wore the dress at our wedding.
The croft, the land, the birds returning to the island in summer—all these things helped me heal.
Never completely, perhaps, but enough to live again. To live life for her.
Time, and Euan’s steady, patient presence, helped me, too.
After a few years, when my body grew strong enough once more, there were the miracles of our babies.
And my work on the croft was supplemented by my part-time job at the bookshop in Lerwick, a place where I felt happy and safe among the shelves of books.
It was high summer on the day when I stepped off the boat that had brought us from Norway and we drove to Euan’s family croft.
The first time I saw the hay meadow, it was filled with thousands of daisies, turning their faces to the light.
And I gasped because there were so many of them, many, many more than Liv had ever managed to stitch onto the shawl, too many to count.
I felt utterly overwhelmed by this reminder of how many lives had been lost in the camps. But I drew strength from the sight, too, knowing all those souls would always be with me in my new home.
I never forget them. Every summer, they come back to me here, and for a few short weeks they live again, dancing in the wind beneath the midnight sun.