Unspoken regrets.

Watching them filled her with innumerable unspoken regrets. And fears. Fears of the future and what it would hold, fear for their well-being, and most of all, the fear of what they would think of her long after she was gone.

A soft breeze swept across her face, toying with the hair on her wig. That irritating old thing. The chemo had left her with no other options. It was either the wig or nothing at all. The wig would have to do. But it wasn't like they knew about it. She would never force upon them the ugly details of her condition. They knew the basics, but that was all she would tell them. It wasn't that they didn't deserve the right to know the truth – she simply couldn't bear to spoil the beauty of the moment.

They were laughing, dipping their pretzels in mustard as they passed silly looks between each other. She took a bite of her own pretzel, knowing she shouldn't be eating it, but not caring. Nothing could spoil this moment. They were both so happy. Her heart never felt more joyful than when she was with them. If only they didn't have to be separated, if only she could remain with them forever. But she couldn't. She knew that, even if they didn't. They still believed that she would get better. She couldn't admit the truth to them – it would hurt too much.

Amy's green eyes flicked towards her, and she smiled. Grace felt a pang in her heart. Amy reminded her so much of Hope. The hair, the smile, the eyes – how could she ever expose her to the horrors of the Cahill family? But what would happen if she didn't?

Isabel would win – that's what would happen. Either way, they would be in danger. Grace could no longer protect them, and the burden weighed heavily upon her. They were her only hope – the only ones that could possibly unite the warring branches. But could she really risk so much? That was the question. They knew so little, were so unprepared. She had done all she could, dropped little hints here and there, but was it enough? The others had spent their whole lives preparing for such a time as this. To anyone, Dan and Amy would appear a lost cause, left without a chance.

But Grace believed in them. She had more faith in them than she'd had in anyone else for a long, long time. By themselves, they would fail, but together, she knew that they were capable of extraordinary things.

Was it enough, though? And not only that, but could Grace voluntarily place them in so much danger, without even so much as a warning in advance? Her heart screamed no, but her mind, the one that had been brainwashed to put the good of mankind first, wouldn't let her take the easy way out. It reminded her of Irina, the woman who had a heart but didn't know it, the woman who had been exposed to so much heartache, so much tragedy. She thought of Alistair, the man who needed to learn to move on, to find closure with the past. She even remembered the Kabra children, everyday being transformed more and more into unfeeling robots by their cold, Lucian parents. She had seen them at the reunions throughout the years. Every year they seemed colder, less like children, and more like machines. And what about Isabel? Was her ice-cold heart really unmeltable?

There were more lives at stake than just her grandchildren. Otherwise, she would have just let them inherit her mansion and wealth, forever remaining safe and secure, and be done with it. But the branches were still at war. For five-hundred years, they had been fighting, destroying innocent lives, not to mention each other, and they would continue to do so until someone could unite them. The dream seemed far-fetched, impossible even, but she still had that ever-lingering remnant of hope. A Madrigal hope.

"Grace," Dan called to her. "Watch this!"

She watched as he grabbed a pretzel, threw it up in the air, and tried to catch it with his mouth. She smiled as it tumbled to the ground.

"Dan, don't do that! You could choke, you know," Amy scolded.

"Aww, Amy, you're such a worrywart," Dan said as he bent over to pick up the pretzel. "You think the five second rule applies?"

"Dan, you are so gross," Amy replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

He ignored her, blew on the pretzel, and plopped it in his mouth. "Am I, Amy?" he asked, purposely chewing with his mouth wide open to gross her out.

"Eew!" Amy exclaimed, backing away from him towards Grace.

Grace smiled at Amy and beckoned for her to sit next to her on the water fountain's edge.

"Thank you for the pretzels, Grace," she said sweetly, leaning her head on Grace's shoulder.

"Yeah, fwanks," Dan added, his mouth still full.

"Remember your manners, Dan," Grace chastised with a smile. "Chew with your mouth closed."

"Sowy."

Grace chuckled, and Amy let out a deep sigh beside her. She looked down at Amy. "What's the matter, Amy?"

Amy blushed, clearly embarrassed that Grace had heard her sigh. "Oh, nothing. It's just that -" She paused slightly. "I wish that it could always be like this. You know, you, me, and Sir Dorksalot over there."

Dan glanced up from his current mischief making, chasing pigeons. "Somebody call me?"

"No," Amy replied with a roll of her eyes. "I was just telling Grace that I wish we could stay with her all of the time."

You and me both, dear. You and me both.

But Grace remained silent as Dan proceeded to join them, instead staring out at the red fall leaves, the colors dancing across the horizon.

"Grace?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for everything – the museum, the food, the fun."

"Oh, yeah, the museum was the highlight of the day," Dan remarked sarcastically.

Amy gave him a dirty look. "I loved the museum. It was amazing."

"What wonderful things we saw today," Grace said, breaking in before they could start fighting. "But sometimes people spend too much time in the past. Nothing I saw today is as good as this pretzel!" She waved it in the air before taking a bite.

"Now that's the smartest thing I've heard all day!" Dan agreed.

Grace breathed in deeply, allowing the fresh air to penetrate her lungs. Amy sighed contentedly, and Dan began to run his fingers through the fountain's ice-cold water behind them, creating small ripples as he went.

The moment was perfect, and Grace would've given anything to keep it that way. She had no guarantee that anything like this would ever happen again; she never knew when she would draw her last breath. But this moment would be engrained in her mind forever – the three of them together. Whether or not they would still trust her so completely after she was gone, whether they would still love her so much if she made the decision that she had a feeling would be inevitable, she would never know. But right now, with the sun setting majestically in the distance, the cool colors of autumn highlighting the scene, with light laughter filling the air, Grace let her mind forget. The burdens, the fears, the regrets – she pushed them all away from her mind. When the time came for her close her eyes one last time, there was only one thing that she wanted to remember, to picture in her mind, as she left this earth – this moment, here with them.