Chap­ter IX begins in the heart of New York City on a crisp evening in March, March 13, 2014, when Addie, who has spent cen­turies nav­i­gat­ing the cru­el anonymi­ty of her curse, finds her­self unex­pect­ed­ly cross­ing paths with Hen­ry out­side his book­store as it shuts for the day. The bustling streets of Brook­lyn hum with life, yet Addie feels an acute sense of sep­a­ra­tion from the world around her. For the first time in years, she feels a fleet­ing sense of belong­ing as Hen­ry, a stranger like so many oth­ers in her long life, sud­den­ly rec­og­nizes her. Her heart races as she tries to make sense of the sit­u­a­tion, her thoughts spi­ral­ing with con­fu­sion and dis­be­lief. The curse that has haunt­ed her for centuries—making her for­get­table to every­one she meets—suddenly seems to break, as Henry’s words and actions con­tra­dict the real­i­ty she’s known for so long. She becomes acute­ly aware of the strange­ness of the moment, com­par­ing Hen­ry to the many oth­ers she’s met over time, yet some­thing about him feels different—his warmth, his open­ness, and his gen­uine inter­est make her won­der if, just maybe, this time things will be dif­fer­ent.

As the two head to a near­by cof­fee shop, Addie’s excite­ment and trep­i­da­tion inten­si­fy. Her heart still pounds with the strange real­iza­tion that Hen­ry not only remem­bers her but seems com­plete­ly unaf­fect­ed by the curse that she can­not escape. How­ev­er, with the seem­ing­ly mun­dane encounter comes an under­ly­ing anx­i­ety, as she faces the every­day con­straints of her sit­u­a­tion: the lack of mon­ey for both of them to have drinks. Her curse has placed her in this paradox—forever seen and nev­er remembered—and now, in the face of Henry’s recog­ni­tion, she is forced to play the part of some­one else. Adopt­ing the name “Eve,” she cloaks her­self in a false iden­ti­ty to pro­tect both her­self and Hen­ry from the full truth, aware that the sim­ple act of shar­ing her true name could unrav­el every­thing. As they sit down to talk, Addie grap­ples with the pre­car­i­ous bal­ance between offer­ing glimpses of her true self and keep­ing up the nec­es­sary façade that her cursed exis­tence demands. Yet, with each word, she feels an odd sense of con­nec­tion to Henry—a con­nec­tion she hasn’t felt in cen­turies. Despite the inter­nal con­flict, their con­ver­sa­tion flows nat­u­ral­ly, start­ing with small talk about life and grow­ing into some­thing more pro­found.

Their exchange touch­es on deep, unspo­ken truths about their respec­tive lives. Addie shares a rare bit of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, reveal­ing a past mistake—a failed theft—and com­ments on her life, filled with work and fam­i­ly. The casu­al tone of the con­ver­sa­tion belies the com­plex­i­ties beneath the sur­face. What strikes Addie the most, though, is not just Henry’s abil­i­ty to remem­ber her but his desire to under­stand her, to know more about who she is. As the evening con­tin­ues, she finds her­self torn between the pos­si­bil­i­ty of open­ing up to Hen­ry and the deep-root­ed fear that once again, her con­nec­tion to some­one will fade into obliv­ion. This fear is not only root­ed in the curse but in her cen­turies of iso­la­tion, a long life where every con­nec­tion she made even­tu­al­ly dis­solved into noth­ing­ness. This sense of urgency and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty creeps into their inter­ac­tions, under­scor­ing the fragili­ty of what could be the most impor­tant rela­tion­ship Addie has ever known.

As they spend more time togeth­er, the nar­ra­tive del­i­cate­ly explores the com­plex­i­ties of mem­o­ry, iden­ti­ty, and con­nec­tion. Addie begins to won­der if, for once, she has stum­bled upon some­thing real—something that could tran­scend the curse that has defined her exis­tence. The chap­ter builds a qui­et ten­sion between hope and fear, as Henry’s recog­ni­tion offers a promise of some­thing Addie has long yearned for: to be remem­bered and seen. But with this promise also comes a deep­er under­stand­ing of the dif­fi­cul­ty of main­tain­ing such a bond, espe­cial­ly when one is bur­dened by the weight of a curse so all-encom­pass­ing. As their con­ver­sa­tion shifts and deep­ens, the read­er is left with the ques­tion: Could this fleet­ing con­nec­tion sur­vive the intense chal­lenges that Addie’s curse throws in its path? Will this bond with Hen­ry be the one that final­ly offers Addie a reprieve from the lone­li­ness and imper­ma­nence that has been her exis­tence for cen­turies?

In their shared moments, the chap­ter con­tin­ues to delve into the painful com­plex­i­ty of their inter­ac­tion, where sim­ple acts of kind­ness and recog­ni­tion res­onate deeply. The sto­ry weaves between hope and despair, as Addie strug­gles with the tan­ta­liz­ing pos­si­bil­i­ty that Hen­ry may be the one to break her curse, and yet she remains painful­ly aware of the ulti­mate pow­er­less­ness she has faced her entire life. Each fleet­ing moment they share car­ries more weight, the pos­si­bil­i­ty of a life that isn’t defined by for­get­ting lin­ger­ing just beyond her reach. The chap­ter con­cludes with a lin­ger­ing sense of unspo­ken ques­tions, with read­ers left to won­der whether this fleet­ing encounter will con­tin­ue or whether Addie will once again be left to wan­der the world, for­got­ten by all except her­self.