Satine’s POV
Without conscious effort, I found that I could remember every detail of that fateful night many months later. The way Christian was looking at me with so much love…and the pain he was hiding behind his gray eyes. It broke my heart to see that hidden pain, though I didn't show it. I had to keep a brave face on for him and the child who was sitting next to me, playing with a kitten and calling me Mummy. And I can remember with painful ease the pain I felt as I was lowered away from him, shivering in a scratchy blanket and my stiff dress, ruined by salt water. My throat ached with remembered coughs, coughs that I thought would surely kill me—or the blood loss would. It wasn't natural to cough up that much blood with one cough.
The other passengers had taken pity on me and layered me with jackets and blankets, trying unsuccessfully to protect me from the bitingly cold air. But there was only one jacket I wanted wrapped around me, and only one pair of arms I wanted to hold me tight. Christian’s.
I remembered shivering with fear and cold, gazing up at the mammoth form of the Titanic. Christian, Jack, and Rose were on there, waiting for certain death. And so were Ethan's family. His father…his sister. And he was sobbing into my side, the kitten forgotten.
He lived with me afterward, and he hadn't smiled a true smile since he found out that his family was dead.
*****
"Ma’am? May I get your name? And your child's name?" the officer asked me, holding a clipboard up. I looked up at him, my eyes dull and lifeless. I was still coughing, but I knew I would be cured once I reached America.
"He's not mine," I said, smiling sadly. "His name is Ethan Argent…" I knew something was wrong when his expression faltered and he shot a horrified look at the little boy sitting beside me, innocently playing with Aureole. He was smiling sweetly, all his worries forgotten for the moment.
"Argent?" he asked, riffling through the papers on his clipboard. "We don't have an Argent listed here…in fact, we have Daniel Argent listed as dead."
"Papa is dead?" Ethan asked, looking horrorstruck. "What about Stella? Is she alive? Stella Argent? My sister?" His eyes were filled with tears. The officer ruffled Ethan's hair in an apologetic gesture and walked away, forgetting to get my name. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps I wouldn't have to go through the pain Ethan was going through if I didn't ask whether Christian was alive or dead.