The events of my life are now beyond my reckoning, however I cannot be so narcissistic as to believe that I, alone, am the lightning rod for fate.  Perhaps I am simply more aware of these forces than the average man.  Perhaps I am simply a victim of statistics, existing at some bizarre end of the bell curve of some larger plan of which we are barely aware.

I only know this; Josette is in my arms.  She loves me as a man.  There is no threat.  No interference.  No sabotage.

Simply love.

My name has brought nothing but pain and tragedy for those who have known it, and none more than I.  “Barnabas Collins” is not a man for whom good fortune is destined.  And yet….

I have been brought to 1897 to battle the ghost of a cad — one who has transformed before me into a true Collins.  In doing so, I was just at the right place and time to meet a villain strong enough to persuade Angelique to abandon the evil within her heart.  In doing so, I was just at the right place and the right time to be revived as a living man in order to evade my own family.  In doing so, I was just in the right place and the right time to meet Josette.  Not Miss Evans nor Miss Winters, but Josette.

Thinking back to that night of Widow’s Hill, the night of her death, I cannot feel as if a larger wheel is turning.  How many times has it rudely struck me from Rosinante and into the earth?  Today, it lifts me to the stars.  Shall it eventually carry me downward?  I have no power over this.  No, as I ascend into indigo and crystalline perfection of night, I find that Josette’s hand is in mine.  It is neither clutched nor clutching.  She is loved and I am loved.  We are, for this moment, simply one.

On this one night, I am very thankful to say that my name is Barnabas Collins, and, at long last, I have found peace in this glorious, moonlit night that has fallen across the great estate of Collinwood.


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