For the last few days, Andrew could not let go of his wife. She was to give birth any moment now, and like he had told Elizabeth, he truly feared her life. He might not show it to her or the children, but as the day came closer, his fear grew more intense and it was harder to hide it from them.

He was not certain if Vicky saw it in his eyes, but she did not say anything of it. Mayhap he was still hiding it well enough, or mayhap she was too afraid to hear that he felt the same fear she felt. Although their days had been spent together at every moment, today seemed different.

They were in the bedchamber – for she could not walk too far without feeling pain in her tummy – and Vicky had just called for the children to join them. Andrew would not have found it odd, if only his wife would look at him and not shiver when she spoke.

It did not take Alice and Louis long to come to their mother, for they also felt some fear and wished to spend every minute possible with her – for every minute might be the last minute.

She took them both on her lap and wrapped her arms around them. Without a word, she just looked at them. She tried to fight back the tears, Andrew saw, but the children did not react to it.

"I love you both so much," she whispered before giving them a kiss on their forehead. "And I know you leave each other as well. I wish that, no matter what happens, you will love your sister too."

Louis pushed his lips down. "I do not want a sister. I want a brother. Samuel!"

Vicky chuckled softly, then told them: "but I believe it will be a girl."

"I will love her very much," Alice said. Though her voice sounded certain and stern, there was no smile on her lips. Just like Andrew, she feared what was about to happen.

Vicky smiled at her daughter, and told her: "I know you will. You are a wonderful girl," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Mama, are you in pain?" Louis asked, worrying about his mother wellbeing like he always had over the past nine months. "Is the baby hurting you again?"

She shook her head and tried to smile, but she was not very good at it. "The baby does not hurt me."

"But she is killing you, is she not?"

Andrew gasped, and feared Vicky reaction, but his wife closed her eyes and told her son: "the baby is not harming me in any way." She opened her eyes and caressed Louis' forehead. "Whatever you believe, I love Sophie as much as I love you. And whatever happens to me, I want you to love her. Not hate her because of what might happen to me."

She looked at Andrew, hoping to find more courage there, but all he could do, was pretend he was not fighting the tears either.

"I will love her, Mama," Alice said, her voice raising as a sob escaped her mouth. "And I will pray that nothing happens to you." She let the tears stream freely, making it even harder for both Vicky and Andrew not to cry as well.

With her thumb, Vicky wiped away Alice's tears before she kissed her forehead. She left her lips lingering there before she turned her head to look at Louis. He too had tears in his eyes, although he probably did not really understand why he had them.

"Take good care of her," Vicky said, "just like you take care of each other."

At any other moment, Andrew would tell his wife that she should not think like this. That there was still a chance – no matter how small – that she might survive. But Vicky had a great gut feeling. From baby genders to sudden occurrences, she was always right. And these words she spoke to her children, sounded awfully lot like goodbyes.

She lifted the blankets over the children, then calmly told them: "close your eyes now. You may sleep here."

Though it was not nearly time for them to sleep, they both cuddled their mother and closed their eyes. About an hour after, she told Andrew to silently bring them to their room, then fetch a midwife. It was time.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Andrew pacing the floor of the silent parlour. His family was sitting on the coaches, but none of them said a word. Madilyn held Alice in her arms and Louis was on Mary's lap. No one complained of Andrew's pacing, for they all knew that whatever they said, he would never calm down.

Vicky had started shouting at the pain the baby caused, the sound woke up Alice and Louis. They both wanted to see their mother, help her ease the pain. But Andrew had to tell them they could not disturb her and that they should indeed pray that all would be well.

That was why they were both sitting with their eyes closed and their hand tightly in each other. Alice's lips moved as she kept repeated prayers, listening to how Vicky's shouts became more and more weak, until they were so weak, it was no longer audible in the parlour.

That was the moment Andrew's heart started racing and his palms started sweating and he wanted to run up the stair as well as fall down on the ground. He wanted to cry as well as tell himself how foolish he was – surely his wife was strong enough.

Lady Anne had tried to calm him down, saying that there was nothing he could do to help her, and that he must pray too. But those words had only infuriated him more. There was indeed nothing he could do, and that was what made him fear everything so much more. He was not even allowed to comfort his hurting wife!

What kind of society obeys a man to wait for his wife to go through to worst moments of her life without his loving support by her side?! Why could only women be present, even when she was doing so bad she might die?! And twas not like this society had female doctors. Of course not, they were seen as too stupid to do something professional like delivering a baby!

His angry thoughts were abruptly stopped when he heard footsteps on the staircase. They hurried down the stairs, but the door to the parlour did not open. It worried Andrew, for the footsteps had sounded urgent, yet no one entered to tell him anything.

So he threw open the door and entered the hallway. Elizabeth was standing in front of him, in her arms a bundle wrapped in blankets. Her eyes looked straight in his, wide and alarming, yet wet from tears.

Andrew's heart stopped beating. His breath stopped. His eyes did not move away from his sister. She must tell him something – anything to prove to him that he was being a fool. That his thoughts were incorrect and that she was only bringing the baby down because Vicky wanted Andrew to see her.

But Elizabeth's lip started shivering, and a tear rolled out of her eye. Then she made one movement that made the silence feel deafening and the air heavy.

She shook her head.

"No," Andrew told Elizabeth, but she kept shaking her head as she lowered it and buried into the bundle. "No!" he said again, for his words must change the facts. But his sister's legs gave away underneath her and she fell to the ground, her shoulders shaking as the baby inside the blankets started crying.

He saw Hawthorne run toward his wife, and he heard Alice and Louis' shouting. But everything felt numb. Everything felt like a dream.

This could not be trust.

Yet he found himself running up the stairs, shaking his head. This could not true. He ran through the hallway, passed the many doors of the house. This was not true! He shook his head, for now the movement ought to change the facts. This was not really happening!

But his silent pleads were not heard. His mind and heart and body came to a stop when he entered the bedchamber he once so proudly called his own. His eyes remained on one spot on the bed. One spot he would often watch, but never like this.

He was looking at the lifeless form of his wife.

With slow, silent steps he walked toward the bed, as if he would wake her if he was too loud. He looked down at her, not knowing what to think. Not knowing how to feel. Not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do.

His breathing sounded loud in the silent room, and mayhap that would wake her. But the beautiful lady did not move. She did not open her gorgeous grey eyes and look at him. She did not chuckle and tell him she was merely pretending.

Softly he laid a hand on her hair. Not even that made her wake up and look at him. And when he sat down on the bed, she still did not move.

A tear escaped his eye. And as it fell down on her hand, he watched another one fall near it, and another one and another one.

He finally let go of his fear. He finally showed his sadness. He finally gave in to his despair and succumbed to everything around him.

As she was laying there, silent and unmoving, he laid down next to her and embraced her for the very last time. He breathed her scent for the very last time. He felt her skin for the very last time.

He wished he could hear her voice one more time. Or her laughter. He wanted to see the spark in her gorgeous eyes.

But he could no more.

Twas like darkness had surrounded him. He had never truly lived until he met her. And quickly she had become the light of his life. She had given him two – no three – lovely children. But without her there, would he ever find the beauty in them?

Would they be enough light for him to keep going? Or would the darkness be too much for him? Could he go on living without her?

His shoulders shook, but he did not know how he was able to move. He was numb, and cold, and empty inside. He did not want to be here, but he also did not want to leave her. He did not want to be anywhere she was not.

But she had gone to a place he could not follow her. She had left him alone and he must find the strength to keep going.

He did not know how he was to move without breaking. How he was to laugh without feeling guilty for his happiness. How he was to sleep without wanting to feel her touch. Or how he was to look at his children and not think of her.

He understood now why she had obeyed them all to love Sophia. He would hate the little girl for taking away the life of the light in his life, but he could not do the opposite from what she wished.

Those were the only thoughts of the future he allowed. He could not look too far ahead, for he did not know what to look at. How to live without her? How to busy his days without her? How to find the light without her?

His cheeks were wet and he could not stop shaking. All he could do was cry and hold her and smell her. All he could feel was pain and sadness and heartbreak.

He gave her a short kiss on her cheek. Then another one, and another one.

As his mind drifted to sleep, the truth dawned upon him.

His beloved wife was dead.