In New York on March 19, 2014, Addie watches the sun rise and returns to Henry’s bed, struck by a fleeting resemblance between Henry and Luc that unsettles her. She notices Henry’s watch and its inscription, Live well, before Henry wakes and pulls her close, fully present with her in a way no one else can be.

As they talk, Addie reflexively says she should go, then realizes she has no “home” to name. Henry presses gently, recognizing she doesn’t have a place of her own, and offers for Addie to stay at his apartment “for now,” treating it as practical rather than romantic escalation.

Henry clears space for her in a dresser drawer and asks if she has belongings. Addie thinks about her curse and how she cannot keep most things, with only a few exceptions tied to Luc’s influence. She looks at her paint-streaked clothes from the day before and reflects on how memories, like paint, fade over time.

Instead of leaving everything transient, Addie carefully folds her leather jacket and places it in the empty drawer, claiming a small physical space. Then she finds Henry’s notebook on the floor and, expecting her story to vanish, opens it to discover he has already filled pages under her name.

Addie reads the beginning of Henry’s account—her earliest memory of riding to market with her father and the feeling of his storytelling—until the written pages run out. When Henry finishes showering, she closes the notebook and sets it back on the bed with reverence, aware that her life is finally being recorded and kept.