A heavy lump was stuck in Fillan’s throat as he watched the black water under the pier he stood on. It must have been the same waves she saw, he thought, thightening the grip around the cold lantern’s handle he hold. So the sea, dark and death bringing as it was, was probably the only thing the stray could think of as a connection between him and the dark haired lass he had seen going off to with that great ship, hidden away under deck, as she told him about being a stowaway for so many years. 

No letters came, no other pirate could say a word about her, not even some other girl-pirates he met at the tavern. No one knew a thing about Mary Read. She was like a ghost. And a hunting one indeed. Everytime Fillan saw the sea between the houses, at the end of an alley or so,spotted the sails of a ship behind a roof or so, she was haunting him. At night in the taverns, when he fell asleep, she was haunting him every day. 

And she would do it forever. Fillan knew that. She would haunt him as long as he hoped for her coming back. And as long as they were no evidence of her death, he decided to take as serious as the lacking evidence of her being alive. Not at all. 

At least he thought so. And still, his hands were shaky as he lit the lantern he just placed on a barrel at the end of the pier, directed to the sea, being a small flame in the cold and misty dark of the night. As long as this little lantern would be lightened, hope was there, he thought. Although it took him more overcoming himself every day after winter was already over, summer was near and Fillan lost count of the days long time ago..