The Name She Could Not Deny
Cecilia recognized the voice that called out to her.
The smile on her lips faded—not abruptly, but as if something had reached into her chest and quietly taken it away.
“I was about to…” Chris tried to speak, but the human gently pushed him aside.
The captain lowered his head and fell silent. He understood immediately—this was not his moment to intervene.
Cecilia’s hands rose to her mouth on instinct, as if she could hold something inside before it broke free. Her breath trembled. For a moment, she simply stared.
“Pops?” Her voice came out small, almost disbelieving. “Why are you here?”
Her body began to shake, not from cold, but from something far deeper—something unraveling.
“Please tell me you just got lost…please tell me you’re not really here.”
Tears welled in the old man’s eyes. He stepped forward slowly, as though afraid she might disappear if he moved too fast. When he reached her, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Is this where you work? Oh my poor child, why are you in this place? How did you end up with such a fate?”
For a moment, Cecilia didn’t respond.
She buried her face against him, gripping his clothes as if anchoring herself to something real. Then the panic came rushing in all at once.
“Pops…Pops, you can’t be here, you haven’t enjoyed life yet, you can’t be here yet!”
She pulled away abruptly, as if distance might undo what she was seeing. Her eyes darted, searching—desperate for something, anything that made sense.
Her gaze landed on Chief Murillo.
“Chief,” she said quickly, stepping forward and grabbing her hands. “You’re in charge of the new passengers. Maybe we can overlook this and erase my grandfather’s name from the manifest?”
Murillo hesitated.
For a brief moment, something flickered across her face—sympathy, conflict—but it vanished just as quickly. She bit her lip and gently stroked Cecilia’s hair.
“That is beyond me, Miss Bermudez. I am so sorry.”
“You can’t?”
The words came out hollow, as if Cecilia hadn’t fully understood them.
Then she saw Chief Officer Bustamante and Martinez approaching.
Hope surged again—fragile, desperate.
“Chief…please call Triple-A, he can bring my Pops back to life!”
Bustamante didn’t answer immediately. His silence lingered just long enough to hurt before he slowly shook his head.
Cecilia turned to Martinez, her voice breaking further.
“Chief Bustamante and Chief Murillo won’t help me. Please tell me what to do to bring him back to life!”
Martinez stepped forward and wrapped her in an embrace.
“I’m so sorry, we’re so sorry, but we can’t do anything.”
The words settled heavily in the air.
Cecilia pulled away from him, shaking her head.
“No…”
Her eyes moved again—searching, pleading—until they found Chris.
She rushed toward him and grabbed his hands tightly.
“Captain, you have power over life and death, right? You can bring him to life, right?” Her voice trembled with each word. “You can undo what happened to my grandfather, can you?”
Chris didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
His gaze dropped, avoiding hers, and after a moment that stretched too long—
He shook his head.
Something inside Cecilia seemed to fracture.
“No? You can’t?”
She stepped back, turning away from him, her breathing growing uneven.
“No one? Not one of you can help him?”
Her hands clenched against her chest as if she could force her heart to steady itself.
“Why won’t any of you help me?” Her voice rose, cracking under the weight of everything she was trying to hold together. “I did everything that was asked of me! Why won’t you help him?”
Her gaze snapped back to Chris.
“I beg of you, Captain, please help him…help my poor grandfather.”
The desperation in her voice lingered long after the words ended.
Chris felt it—every bit of it.
It pressed against him, heavy and unrelenting.
For a moment, he said nothing. His jaw tightened, his hands curling slightly at his sides. He had faced countless souls, countless pleas—
But this was different.
Because it was her.
“Let’s go,” he said quietly.
Cecilia looked at him, her expression caught between hope and fear.
“Where?”
“Your grandfather’s soul is here, but his body is alone,” he whispered.
The words carried a weight she didn’t yet fully understand.
Chris turned to his officers.
“Find crewmembers who can handle your duties, then follow us.”
There was no hesitation in his tone this time.
Before anyone could respond, the space around them shifted.
Light—soft, blinding, endless—consumed them.
And in the next breath, they were gone.
