He was just a baby when it all happened. His parents were walking him around the city on a sunny afternoon. Mrs. Snow was amusing her 8-month-old son: he always laughed when she dangled her necklace in his face, and always pouted when she pulled away right before he would catch it. Then she would start playing with him again, putting a grin on the Mr. Snow's face. The little family couldn't be happier.
Suddenly, as they were reaching a park, they heard alarming noises: screams, sirens and gunshots surrounded them. The child started to cry as his parents escaped the general chaos, trying to reach their home. They went through the crowds, ran in a narrow alley, and ended up on their street.
Unfortunately, a few yards away from their shelter, the attackers cornered them. A banging noise and a little smoke later, the father felt a stinging pain to his kidney and crumpled on the floor. The mother fell to her knees, mourning her husband and begging the murderers to spare her son's life. "Please, take me, let him live, please," she supplicated.
The next moment, unexpectedly, she saw white-clothed men a little farther away, but getting nearer to the scene; she hoped they might approach them in time to ensure her baby's safety. She spent her last moments protecting her son from the rebels, and as they shot her and ran away from the Peacekeepers, she kissed her baby and gave him the necklace.
"Mummy loves you, little Cory," she said before giving her last breath and joining her husband, making her only child an orphan.