I fed him food from the bags I had brought. I had to stop him from eating it all at once. I fed him piece by piece in his bed. He was mad I hadn't looked under the black blankets to check if he was alive or not, but that all subsided when he had eaten enough and I had kissed him enough.

I'd forgotten how Jack's mouth tasted, how soft, how sweet, and how electric and warm his lips were. It made me high. He blacked me out.

I heard no moans of the world anymore. The sunlight swam in through the curtains and flooded all the windows.

Jack asked me if we should die together in this bed, take the pills and die with romance. Lying side by side, staring into his eyes, I asked him if he wanted to live forever with me. He proposed marriage, before we were to kill ourselves, and we had our honeymoon that minute, and in the morning, I was pregnant, for I was sick and vomited in the toilet. And the notion that we kill ourselves was out the window now.

We grabbed Jack's book, and all the food, and many blankets. We kissed Travis's forehead through the black blanket in the second-floor den, and went to the boat.

We didn't dare touch George's body. But feeling sick, I woke up on our journey toward land with total confusion.

I woke up remembering only that I had made love to Craig in the religious library, and I had forgotten how George had died. I even begged Jack to go back and save Craig and save the others. Jack had to yell out that he didn't kill George. And the only way to convince me that we were never going back to the bay house was for Jack to say he killed Craig.

When I had eaten something and fallen back to sleep, I woke up sick but remembering everything as it was again.

Eventually, we heard calls coming out to us through the sunny day (No clouds were in the sky whatsoever, and I had to cover myself with a blanket to avoid a sunburn) -- Brett and the family had spotted us! They screamed out and Jack shouted for them to swim to the boat.

I whispered to Jack though, "Do you think there will be room for the family and Brett?"

But Jack said, much unlike Craig and George, that they better fit or else none of us are going to make it out alive.

They did fit. The boat did sink slightly however, and the family had to cup their hands to bail out ocean water that spilled into the boat. Hours passed, and we moved debris, and I still felt sick. I held Jack's creation in my hands, and our other creation in my body. Both had saved us, as creations do.

And eventually, as the sun was coming down, the boat reached a point where it was no longer able to go forward. The water was too shallow now, so we stepped out of the boat, and walked through marshland of dirt and city debris.

Hours passed as we marched precariously through the darkness. Until finally, we saw lights. City lights.

And Mexican music, and colorful buildings. Many people were running, and cheering and came to help us. By morning we went with the family to their home in Mexico City. The father was a doctor, and the daughter an intern to the ambassador for the United Nations.

We ate dinner with them, and took the next flight our home town in California. Where we made the phone call that taught me my family was very much alive. All our families, and all our town was very much alive.

That plane ride over the world with Jack and Brett on either side of me was quiet. And we didn't say much to each other.

When we landed, and our families, were there crying and running to us with hugs that never ended, our community was there too, standing behind them with signs of love and welcome. The news and press were there. And many people were filming with their phones.

We went straight to a non-religious ceremony at the biggest church, and Brett, Jack and I were commemorated back into the community with love, and the town gave sorrow for the deaths of Craig, George and Travis. Travis's father was terribly sad to have lost his son as well as his wife, and because I saw that George's family was so heartbroken as well to have lost their son, I let the secrets of George's wrongdoing die with him. I knew I would never suffer him again. So, I was at piece, and forgave him, for the sake of my own self.

I prayed to Craig with love, for trying to save me from George, and I hugged his mom and dad who were divorced but embraced in tears together. I wondered if the other families felt it was unfair that Jack, Brett and I had survived while their kids did not. And I wondered if they blamed me for encouraging their boys to steal away with me on my father's birthday yacht, because if we hadn't, and if we had remembered to drop anchor, we would have never drifted south, and become swept by the tsunami.

The tsunami hit nearer the equator and only touched the California-Mexican border to Tijuana mildly.

I told my parents I was pregnant, and that I wanted to marry Jack, and they could care less about anything besides the fact that their beloved daughter was alive. Jack and I were married in Paris, and Brett the best man as well as Travis the honorary best man. Our parents bought us an expensive house in Los Angeles, but we eventually moved for a year to the Midwest, on a high up mountain of dirt, where no water could be found for miles.

WE planned to move the east coast or back to California (after my nightmares and anxieties subsided). I had terrible dreams about the flood. And about George, Travis and Craig's deaths.

When I had our baby, those dreams suddenly vanished. And I slept in the arms of love every night. When our baby was born, we moved back to the west coast to be close to our parents. And I went to law school, while Jack joined a publication firm and began his business.

When more natural disasters continued throughout the world, the daughter of the family we saved, who had lived in Mexico City, called us from Washington D.C. about a campaign to raise money for communities who fell victim to natural disaster.

My husband and I went for a live television interview in Germany, where a prominent American actor happened to be. He told me to just call him Leo. And he said to me that he had been making documentaries to show just how important the global climate change issue was.

Leo said to me how important it is for wealthy powerful people to experience suffering the way normal people do, at least once in their lives. We so often live in a bubble, where our worst concerns are not making it into an Ivy League college or not being able to afford the next iPhone. Leo said to me, perspective is the only way to be happy. Truly, unbreakably happy. Some people worry about high school sweethearts breaking hearts, while most of the world only sees that as a petty luxury.

Billions of people are drowning. They are not fed. They have no clean water. Their basic needs are denied. And we are the ones who deny them.

One year later, after all the interviews were done, I nearly forgot about that Mexican girl from the U.N. and that famous actor. I fell back into the la-di-da culture of my wealthy little town. I had more kids with Jack. And we moved into a bigger house. He wrote more books, and his companies made more money. We inherited from our relatives, and we made lots of wealthy friends while we went on our latest expensive vacation to Brazil, Austria and Italy.

It's amazing how far our worlds live apart. I don't see poor people much, so they fade from my mind. Being poor isn't even real to me, even when I see poverty in the news. And sometimes I think being poor is caused by acting poor. And I deserve being rich, because I act rich. I work hard, I treat others right, and so God, love and art fill me with joy.

I remember the flood as only a consequence of happenstance, and not dropping the anchor.

I never thought it was because my father's oil company, helped kill the world.

Jack and I drank Starbucks every day, and lived happily ever after.