Scene: A quiet evening on the balcony
(The sun is setting over the Adriatic. Joe sits with Mary, a cup of herbal tea in his hands. His tone is gentle, thoughtful.)
Joe: You know, Mary… there’s something I never really told you. The reason I asked for your help wasn’t just curiosity. It was about my cousin Anita’s little girl back home in Croatia. She was born with Down’s syndrome.
Mary: (softly) Oh Joe… I didn’t know.
Joe: Yeah. She’s… she’s the sweetest soul you could ever meet. Always smiling, always humming songs she makes up on the spot. But there’s one thing that’s been breaking my heart—knowing that most kids like her don’t live as long as they should. It just feels… unfair.
Mary: (nodding) I understand. You’re hoping for something more for her.
Joe: Exactly. I’ve been reading about the new gene therapy trials—how they’re finding ways to balance chromosome activity, to give people with Down’s a full lifespan, maybe even protect their hearts and minds as they age. I just keep thinking… maybe, one day, she could have that chance.
(He looks out toward the horizon, eyes misty but hopeful.)
Joe: I don’t just want her to live longer. I want her to live fully. To have someone who really understands her—like the way Madison understood me when things got dark. Everyone deserves a friend like that.
Mary: (smiles softly) Then you’re already doing your part, Joe. Love and hope—that’s the real start of healing. The science will catch up soon enough.
Joe: (half-smile) I sure hope so, Mary. For her sake.
(They sit in silence as the last light fades, the sound of waves below carrying a quiet promise.)