Epilogue: Years Later

The Lottery of Empathy – Epilogue: Years Later

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

Written by Riley

Year 1

We didn’t stay close. Not really. But we didn’t disappear, either.

We called, sometimes. Shared meals once a month. Texted when the wind hit wrong.

Shannon dropped out of fashion school—panic attacks. But Malika let her stay for a few weeks. She got back up.

Bruno sent no messages. But someone saw him at a farmer’s market. Selling jerky. Smiling. With a dog.

Jay still left things for people. Quiet helper. No spotlight.

We were still fragile. But we weren’t alone anymore.

Year 2

Mira relapsed. We lost her for three weeks. Avi found her sleeping behind a church and took her home. They live together now. Healing is slow. But real.

Danny’s son visited for Father’s Day. They went fishing. Didn’t catch anything. Didn’t care.

Kenzo teaches ESL to immigrants now. Calls it his redemption job.

I published the book. “The Lottery of Empathy.” You’re reading it.

Year 5

We met again. All of us. In that same old library.

Some with kids now. Some with limps. Some with deeper laugh lines.

We didn’t talk about the pain. Not much. But we all brought food. And no one left hungry.

Juno built an art center on Commercial Drive. There's a mural outside: Luna and her pups, under a tree called Hope.

Bruno didn’t come. But he sent a letter. It just said: “Still watching. Still grateful.”

Year 10

I asked each of them what they’d do if they had to go back to the beginning.

Most said they wouldn’t survive it again. But every single one said: “I’d still do it.”

We never “won.” Not in the way people expected. But we did learn what it means to hold each other up.

Some of us fell again. Some still do.

But now—**when one of us falls, someone shows up with a blanket, a hot drink, and a hand**.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

Empathy isn't a prize. It’s a promise.

And we’re still keeping it.

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