Passing The Torch
Sylvie stood looking down at the press the queen had donated to the people. She felt a slight shiver remembering that one day this machine caused her so much pain. No, she couldn't think that way. It was Grimaud and Marcheax who did that.
She had to think of the good that would lead to this tool. She knew she could not take part in this fight right now. But she would be back and if not in Paris, somewhere else.
First she had to think of her family. She smiled resting a hand over her flat stomach. She may be a little terrified, but she was ready.
She remembered Grimaud's disbelief that she would bring a child into this world. It shocked her to her very core. A child was a hope for the future. She would not have fought for her fellow man if she did not have hope for the future.
"Sylvie?"
The quiet voice startled Sylvie and she turned around to look at her friend Rochelle. She was a shy girl, but Sylvie could see a similar determination in Rochelle that Sylvie felt.
"I heard you're leaving," Rochelle said. She looked worried.
"It's true," Sylvie said. "But I'll be back," she walked over to the younger woman grasping her hands in hers. "Rochelle, I believe in you. And you're not alone."
"Is it true you're having a child?" Rochelle asked.
Sylvie nodded pursing her lips. She felt tears prick her eyes. She was going to miss Rochelle.
The young woman wrapped her arms around Sylvie's waist pressing the side of her face against Sylvie's shoulder.
A few minutes later they separated. Sylvie wrapped an arm around Rochelle's shoulders as they walked out together.
The End