And I Say... It’s Alright [Epilogue]
Leo Lacroix.
Beatrix Beckham had never known his name, and he had never known hers. So what did that mean? Did they truly remain a mystery to each other, even up to the end? Did that mean their frantic attempts to hold onto normality was for naught? Did that mean their relationship was fake, their affections fake, their love fake? She found herself wondering if ‘love’ was even the right word to use as she approached his apartment complex in Montreal. After all, it probably wasn’t possible for two people to fall in love in the span of a few weeks.
Then again, the whole situation just didn’t seem possible. The nightmares she woke up in a cold sweat from were so strange they seemed almost fictitious. What was this about a fake train with a robotic conductor, both engineered by a devious girl who seemed more interested in destruction than anything else? And what about this nonsense regarding four other people who watched the train and conductor and girl and all the memories they had aboard the Echo Express burst into flames? It sounded too absurd to be real.
But it was real.
She had the journal and a meeting date scribbled on her calendar. She also had images of people dying seared in her mind. Oh, and as out there as the nightmares seemed -- they were also reminders.
Beatrix felt like crying, but no tears came yet. Instead she approached the apartment complex. Out front was a garden. Or rather, it was the remains of a garden. What once was no doubt a pretty patch of flowers was now a plot of land overgrown with weeds. She smiled despite its unsightliness. It must’ve been Leo’s if it was this unmanaged.
Opening the journal he had given her (or rather, she got back from Kiyoko), she double-checked the address. Yes, it was correct. Getting here had been a struggle only because of how much seeing his home would weigh her down. Yet here she was, having finally made it to Leo Lacroix’s place of residence.
She walked up to his apartment door -- one of the ones on the first floor -- and stared dumbly. She raised her fist to knock, then realized how silly that was. He lived alone. So, after glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, she quickly tried the doorknob.
No such luck. Life had never been easy, so of course it wasn’t going to relent now. Beatrix scowled and spun around, returning to the garden. Out there she noticed sizable rocks amongst the flowers, as well as a window. It was locked, too, so soon enough she had a rock in her hand. After a moment of hesitation, she threw it.
The sound of glass shattering must’ve alerted the neighbors. An older woman came out from the apartment nearest Leo’s and stared at Beatrix as she was trying to clamber in through the broken window. The former weather girl’s hands were bleeding by this point, the rock having made quite a mess, and her jacket had several tears in it.
The woman said something in French, and Beatrix froze. She considered climbing back out and telling the lady the truth (about how this guy who had been living next door died on a train when he tried to murder someone because she wanted him to), but immediately decided against it. She’d just have to add ‘breaking and entering’ to her list of crimes.