“Please, sir, please find him again! Please help me find his name one more time! Enzo Madilson.” I earnestly implore the officer to review the names of those rescued in the most notorious maritime disaster in English history, the Titanic. I can see the officer's discomfort, but I continue to beg him to help me. I cling to him like a tenacious leech, insisting on something impossible. I have lost all the grace, elegance, and composure of a dignified woman. I even go so far as to claim to be Enzo's wife. I have always been this way, never thinking about the consequences of my actions or words. How did I become so despicable and contemptible, someone who used to care about Thena's refined attire or David's less-than-posh dining habits? Is that who I truly am, and have I deceived everyone and myself with an arrogant facade?

I swallow a mouthful of saliva when I see the officer's patience starting to wear thin. I exhale heavily and stubbornly say, "Perhaps you're not searching for the correct name. Let me spell it for you! E-Z... I'm sorry, I was mistaken... Damn it, I'm so confused, I'm sorry... E-N-Z-O, M-A..."

My madness makes the officer sickened. He slams the notebook shut with force. The piercing sound startles me, but it is also a wake-up call. The officer glares at me and shouts, "Madam, this is the fifth time! The name you're looking for is not on this list!"

"Then it must be on another list..."

"No! And no more lists, madam! Your husband is dead, and it's very painful, but it's the truth!"

Everyone in the room looks at me with curious eyes. I do not know how to face this. While I still have tears in my eyes, another officer brings a different file to Officer Cowell - the one I was bothering. In a moment, I feel like I have been saved. I am convinced that it is a different list, and Enzo's name has been recorded on it. I silently observe Cowell's face, trying to find something unusual about it. I hold my breath, praying that my intuition is right. My heart beats fast like an athlete trying to reach the finish line. In that moment, I feel like I am the main character of the story, as everything around me seems to move slower than half-speed. The sound of the phone dial, the sound of the pen rolling on the paper, the sound of the button and the typewriter keys are like a sudden music dedicated to me. Now, all my energy depends on that notebook. Please! I beg the Lord for mercy, please give me hope! I beg you to let Enzo's name be recorded in it again!

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Cowell frowns and looks at the names written in it, occasionally looking up at me. Then both officers look at each other as if silently giving a signal. My heart is burning with hope that I can grab the files from the officer's hand and find the answer myself. It takes a while for Cowell to hesitate before placing the file on the table and pointing to the page. Cowell does not say a word but lets me look. I think it is just a feeling of shame that he did not believe me, and he did not really try to help. I hold my breath, scan each name with my finger. And I am so sure I jerked and shouted when I saw those handwritten letters. "Enzo Madilson," not a single letter is wrong! I jump up, ignoring how others might judge me. I hold up the file, my hand glued to the row of names. I cannot stop my emotions. I turn to look at everyone, shouting in joy:

"My husband! My husband! His name is in here!"

And then a feeling of disgust overcomes me as I desire to humiliate the "unpleasant" officer, I impulsively confront him:

"I said my husband's name is on the list! I told you but you didn't believe me!"

"I'm sorry... It's true that your husband's name is there..."

"Thank God! My Enzo is still alive!", I burst out passionately. "Where can I find Enzo, sir?"

At this moment, I seriously consider immediately going to find Enzo and running away with him to a strange land where no one can find us. I will give up all the status, virtue, and reputation that I have. I will abandon everything to start anew with Enzo. Now, all I need is him! I just need him alone, and that will be enough!

I look at Cowell with hopeful puppy eyes. I am ready now! Now I am completely ready to pursue the call of my heart. But I am not ready for Cowell's answer right after.

Cowell shakes his head and looks at me with sympathetic eyes, and that immediately raises a red alert for me. He uses a low and empathetic tone and gently says:

"In the Atlantic... Because this is the casualty list."