DEVIL

Epilogue

Seven Years Later

At the age of twenty-four, Poetry went on to become a successful lawyer. She'd moved out of the Outer Banks in the fall of 2021, and returned to Topsail Beach. Poetry Rain Collins was on her way to becoming Poetry Rain Grey, after Ares Grey had persisted in taking her on a date seven years ago, and had proposed no more than two months ago. He'd finally saved up enough money to go to college, and graduated with an MSN.

Sometimes, Poetry's mind would drift back to the summer of 2021; and more specifically, Rafe Cameron. Her mind easily found its way back to him, whenever she'd absentmindedly play with the seashell that hung around her neck. She knew his seven year sentence would come to an end soon, and a part of her secretly wished he'd search for her. Maybe, she'd even search for him, too.

Anthony and Alyssa had married two years ago, already starting a family of their own. Theodore Rain Collins was born in the spring; he had Alyssa's hazel eyes, and Anthony's dark hair.

Poetry had put the past behind her, or, at least, she'd tried to. She couldn't seem to ever fully forget Rafe Cameron, no matter how hard she tried. She knew it was wrong, especially towards Ares, but ignorance is bliss; besides, Rafe was still in prison – for now.

Occasionally, Poetry would put pen to paper and write, like she used to love to do. She could still vividly remember telling Rafe how passionate she was about writing, and how, one day, she hoped to become an author.

She discovered that she could only seem to find inspiration while she was in her mother's home in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. And, as it happened, that's where she presently sat; up in her room, she heard the sound of knuckles rapping against the front door. Poetry closed her laptop, pausing the writing process of her newest book.

Poetry descended the stairs, eventually opening the front door. There he stood, like an angel – whether it was an angel from Heaven, or an angel of death, Poetry didn't care. Rafe Cameron stood before her, looking tired and disheveled. For the first time in seven years, Rafe's cerulean eyes held a light in them. And, unbeknownst to him, Poetry's viridian irises had been dull for seven years, until that point in time. "It's me, Poe," Rafe whispered as his voice broke, and the first genuine smile found his lips.

She welcomed Rafe Cameron into the familiar home, telling him she'd be right back, as she ran up the stairs. She reopened her laptop, revealing what she thought would be the last page of her newest project. Poetry sat down in the seat, resuming her typing. At the end of the page, in bold print, the words spread clear as day:

"No matter how it seemed, that wasn't the end for Poetry Collins and Rafe Cameron. If anything, their sequel had already begun."