Nora Vance bursts through the terminal doors, coat soaked, clutching a paper ticket as she looks up at the departures board which is clattering and flipping to CANCELLED.

Nora Vance looks at the board, her expression crumbling as she says the line.

Nora Vance “No. Not tonight.”

Eli sits behind the wooden counter, his face obscured by the low light of the terminal. He slides a small brass token across the wood toward the camera.

Eli “The last one doesn't run on the board.”

Nora Vance steps out of the terminal doorway into thick fog. The water is black and still in front of her.

A ferry constructed of folded paper glides silently out of the mist, its lanterns glowing with a soft amber light.

Nora Vance turns to look back at the terminal door. Eli is visible in the distance, standing in the doorway, raising one hand.

Nora Vance looks toward the glowing ferry, her eyes wide as she whispers her question.

Nora Vance “Who's driving it?”

The paper ferry lowers its gangway with a soft, paper-like rustle toward the pier floor.

Nora Vance grips the brass token tightly in her hand and steps onto the gangway of the paper ferry.