As the train rides through the night, Louisa holds a baby and asks Ted if he believes in God. They share tentative admissions of belief “sometimes,” and the baby’s return to her mother leaves Louisa visibly cold and bereft. Louisa asks about the art competition Joar found; Ted explains it was for young artists with the prize of a museum hanging. Though Louisa calls the prize useless, Ted insists it was perfect because seeing a painting on a museum wall could make the artist feel he belonged.

Ted describes how, after Christian’s funeral, he and their friends coaxed the artist back toward life through small laughs. At Ali’s prompting on the pier, the artist decided to paint his friends not as they looked but as they made him feel, teasingly titling it The One of the Sea. On the last day of June, he visited Christian’s grave to sketch the first version, then went with Joar, Ali, and Ted to the pier and threw away the pills he had taken from Ted’s father, offering them a fragile hope that things might be all right.

Ted reflects that he “believed in God” when he watched the artist paint and recalls the artist’s later years traveling the world, painting walls, and claiming he did not care what people would say after he died so long as no one said he died young, because he felt he had lived a thousand years. Louisa admits she never prayed to God but prayed to demons like Ted, and still lost Fish. Ted connects the artist’s skull motif to keeping Christian alive through art, suggesting art is what we leave in other people.

Louisa shares a vivid memory of an improbable winter night of heavy snow with Fish: a clumsy snowball fight, a comically ugly snowman, and snow angels across town, a single night that felt like a whole winter and, laid out, enough to make a happy childhood. Ted agrees that a few defining years shaped his life and says he would not trade his friends for a thousand childhoods. Louisa cites a notion that in Heaven one gets to keep one “now”; her now is that snowy night, and Ted’s is any day on the pier. They trade thoughts on death, surviving loved ones, and love; Ted says many he loved have died, while Louisa says she has not loved many.

Louisa asks about the janitor’s mother; Ted says she taught art history and loved myths. He tells Louisa the myth of Zeuxis and Parrhasius, which she compares to modern “cake or not” TV tricks. Their banter turns to Ted’s past as a teacher; he jokes about being stabbed after teaching Julius Caesar’s death. He then soberly recalls lying stabbed on his classroom floor, the chaotic hospital assessment, and waking from surgery in shock and guilt. He tells Louisa he will never return to teaching.

They pivot to plans: Ted jokes about politics, then admits they hope to see Christian’s mother for help selling the painting. He has not called ahead, knowing her dread of phone calls after loss. If she is not home or cannot help, Ted says he does not know what they will do, but he believes Louisa will think of something, a kindness Louisa notes as a record for him. As the train rocks on, Ted murmurs “Good night, ghosts” and falls asleep. Louisa quietly apologizes to the sleeping Ted and keeps drawing.

Ted sleeps deeply, dreaming of being fourteen on the sunlit pier. He does not notice a stop. When he wakes, a drawing lies on the seat beside him and Louisa is gone.