The door shut behind her. A flash off brilliant light, lighting up her silhouette in one final blaze of glory, then it was over, leaving only a dying imprint on his eyelids. He sighed; a deep, heartfelt sigh, because even he, with his tough exterior wall, knew that this time would be different. This time, he would remember, because there is a certain type of soul that one never forgets, and that is the soul of the one you love. So he knew from then on that he would carry a weight of grief in his chest for the woman he loved but could not be with, because she was just as dead to him having left his world as she was for those in hers.
As the door shut she closed her eyes, because she knew she must do this. Being a psychologist, she had always given herself a small amount of time to herself for examining her feelings, and she knew that now it was imperative that she should, since it was the biggest moment of her life, no actually, biggest moment of her death. Molly. Her beautiful little girl. She remembered holding her for the first time; the weight of her confirming her reality, those little eyes that fought to stay open and her tiny hands grasping people's fingers. She had thought at that moment that she would never want to let go of her. But she had had to. A bullet had gone and forced it's way between them, all because of a desperate druggy calling the 'get out card' that had probably died twenty years ago. She remembered how hard she had tried, in the month after Pete's departure, to make Molly's life as normal as possible. Those months had turned into years, and she had still tried so hard to give her daughter the best start in life. Only to die, and never see if all the effort had payed off. Had it been worth it? Of course it had she told herself. A memory flashed in her eye of Molly's face as she drove her to school on the day of her death. She had been confident, happy and funny, all the things Alex herself had missed out on being in her teenage years. The death of her parents had made her retreat, become shy, quiet and withdrawn. Worry now flared in her for Molly. But then the optimistic part of her, the part that had developed and grown under Gene's company these past few years, told her to think of all the good qualities her parents deaths had inspired within her. Determination, independence and kindness, these were the things she was always trying to teach Mols. And anyway, little Alex Price had been shy anyway, what with the constant need to impress her mother. Molly was anything but shy, so maybe it would just be the good attributes that rubbed off this time. The days after the car bomb, she had cried at everything because everything sought to remind her of them. Then, like a flash of cool, blissful relief, she remembered the day, the first day in her early life, when she had been distracted by something happening in the now. And like magic, the heavy weight of grief had been lifted for moments, as she forgot about all the terrible loss and pain she should be feeling. That was what she wanted for Molly. Eyes still shut tight, she whispered, if not to be heard then just to lay her mind at ease; "Forget me Mols, and go on girl, go take a running jump at the world. I love you, and always will, but it's time to move on."