Epiphany: Morning After Morning brings no grand absolution. Instead there are quieter reckonings: a repaired fence, a letter mailed, a planted sapling. People who come seeking complete erasure seldom find it; what they find is a ledger revised: margins annotated, drafts kept, and a new way of carrying what remains. The ferry returns with those who leave, and with them the island keeps a residue—an impression on the soles of departing shoes, on their voices, on a story told half-remembered at dinner back home.