Jane stood outside the bedroom door, her hand placed on the knob. She knew she would have to reenter sometime. But at that moment, she could not bring herself to do so.
Perhaps I should check on Edward again, she thought. After all, Mother and the nurse are probably still asleep and I wouldn't want to wake them.
She was about to turn back, when her stepdaughter's voice echoed in her mind.
"Come now, she'll help you feel better. In fact, you have me and Alice and so many others who can help you."
She knew Mary was right. The nightmares had gone on long enough and it was time to put an end to them. So, she turned around and placed her hand on the knob, readying an explanation in her mind. She then opened the door only to be immediately seized in her mother's arms.
"Jane, there you are!" she cried. "I was so worried when I noticed you weren't in your bed."
"At least warn us the next time you decide to get out of bed against medical advice," the nurse chided.
"Oh hush, that doesn't matter now," her mother said, turning to the nurse. She then turned back to Jane, tilted her chin up and cupped her cheeks in her hands. "What matters is that she's back safe and sound."
Jane hummed in relief when her mother's soft lips touched her scorching forehead. But when she pulled away, she noticed her mother's warm smile had dropped into a suspicious frown. Her mother then placed her hand against her forehead, causing her to shiver in response.
"Sweetheart, you're rather warm and you're trembling. Are you feeling alright?"
"I-I've just had a terrible dream," Jane admitted.
Her mother took her in her arms once again, welcoming her warm and gentle embrace Jane buried her face in her mother's chest, clinging to her like she once did long ago, back when she was but a small girl.
"What did you dream about, darling?" she asked finally.
Jane looked up at her and took a deep breath as she prepared to explain the vivid details of her dream. "It was-it was about my baby," she started. "He started crying so I went to go check on him. I ran as fast as I could but-but the cradle was empty." She clung tightly to her mother as tears spilled from her eyes and rained down her cheeks. "I must hold him! I-I almost lost him!"
"It's alright, Love," her mother said. "I know you would never let any harm come to your son. Neither would anyone else." She held her daughter close, stroking her long, golden hair just like she used to do.
"I wish I could believe you," Jane lamented.
"Let's discuss this matter in the morning," the nurse said, guiding her back to bed. "For now, you should try and get some rest."
Jane hugged the covers tightly, refusing to even close her eyes lest the nightmares return. Then a tender voice whispering words of love touched her ear. The voice was soon joined by a soft hand against her back. She tried to resist but the hand felt so warm against her chilled skin. As her eyelids began to fall, she knew she couldn't fight it anymore. So, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Suddenly, she awoke to the sound of her name being called.
"Mother?" she asked as her lids slowly peeled back.
"Jane, it's me."
She rubbed her eyes sleepily to find a woman not much older than her mother standing above her.
"Nurse?" she questioned.
"I'm sorry, but I had to wake you. You were trembling again. Did you have another nightmare?"
"No, I'm just feeling a bit chilled."
"That's odd, it doesn't feel cold to me. But perhaps I've simply grown accustomed to the cold. No matter, I have just the thing." With that, the nurse took out a blanket from her bag and gently laid it on top of her, taking care to smooth out any wrinkles in the fabric. "There, we wouldn't want the queen to catch cold now, would we?"
Jane cracked a light smile and shook her head.
"Now, can I get you anything else?"
Then Jane thought back on the past few days and nights. How she had been forced to watch her son from afar during the day. How she had waited until nightfall to sneak over to the nursery. How she had taken extra care to tread lightly so as not to be found out. How she had gone to all of these lengths just to spend some time with her child. After pondering the ridiculousness of it all, she had made up her mind. She knew it would be a gamble, but it would be a worthy gamble.
"My son, I want to hold my son."
"I know and I have a plan," the nurse said. "But first, I'll have to consult with the physician who will then discuss this with your husband. Ultimately, he's the one who has the final say."
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door.
"God, I hope this works," the nurse muttered as she got up to leave.
Jane sat there tapping her fingers, waiting for someone, anyone, to give her an answer.
Will the nurse's plan work? Will the physician allow me to hold my newborn son? Will Henry comply?
Then, she harkened back to the moment the midwife laid her son in her arms. How the flame that had sparked deep within her chest when she first laid eyes on him had burned away her doubts and fears. How she had freed herself from her puppet strings once she had cut the umbilical cord. How her husband had stood by her side; unable to move, unable to speak. How she had endured three nights of labour and lived to see all of that.
Those eyes, she said to herself. He can't say "no" to me! Besides, Edward is not just his son. He is also my son. If they won't give him to me, I'll make them. I'll even jump right out of this bed if I have to!
But when she was about to make good on her promise, the door slowly swung open. The nurse entered once again, this time with a small bundle in her arms. She was soon followed by two larger figures carrying a cradle into the room.
"But—How could—How did you convince them?"
"Oh, let's just say I have my ways," the nurse responded. "Would you like to hold him?"
The queen nodded vigorously, her heart swelling with joy as the nurse drew closer.
"Now, remember to support his head," she instructed, handing the infant to his mother.
Jane knew what she had to do, she had been told many times. But she didn't mind. Shielding the baby's head with her hand, she welcomed him into the soft clutch of her arms. He gazed at her with a smile sweet as honey. She smiled back at him as sunlight filled within her, rays breaking through the clouds. She laid a delicate kiss on his forehead then he began to stir, placing his tiny fists in his mouth.
"I think it's time for a feeding," Jane said. So, she wrapped the blanket around herself and her son; shielding them both from any curious onlookers. She held him close to her chest once more. He latched immediately, taking greedy suckles from her breast. She stroked tufts of his soft, blond hair as he continued to nurse.
The peaceful silence was soon broken by a high-pitched voice. "Catch me if you can!" The doorknob jostled and in popped Elizabeth, racing over to the bedside and laughing heartily.
"I caught you!" Jane cried, tapping the small girl's shoulder.
"Hey! That's not fair, you weren't playing!" Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips, but the smile on her face told Jane she wasn't the slightest bit cross.
"I can join in anytime I want," she teased.
Shortly thereafter, the princess heard another set of footsteps racing down the hall. Elizabeth grabbed the covers and pulled herself onto the bed. Jane winced as a sharp pain struck her as Elizabeth pushed on her stomach in her attempt to scurry over to her side.
She tried to convince herself that the pain wasn't quite so bad. After all, Elizabeth was a small girl and she hadn't even pushed her that hard. But the pain lingered and an awful nauseous feeling boiled deep in her stomach. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that Elizabeth wouldn't notice. Soon, the pain passed and her stomach began to settle.
"There...you are...Elizabeth!"
Jane looked over to find Mary standing hunched over in the doorway, panting.
"Elizabeth, you can't be in here," she chided.
"But Mary—"
"No 'buts,' Mummy needs her rest. Let's go."
Jane stopped her just as she was about to leave. "No, please stay. I've been rather lonely."
"I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't know. I thought you'd be resting."
"No need to apologize, Mary. I just want to spend some time with my precious girls." Jane then looked down to find that her baby had ceased to suckle. She gently removed him from her breast and swaddled him in the delicate fabric.
Elizabeth edged closer to her stepmother once she had regained her modesty. She looked down at the baby in her arms. "I wish Eddie could play with us."
"Well, he may not be able to play with you quite yet," Jane said. "But you can still play with him."
"But how?"
"Well, when you were a baby your mother loved to show you her silliest faces. And Mary, your mother couldn't stop counting your toes and tickling your feet."
So, Elizabeth leaned in close until her face was a mere few inches from her brother's. Then, she pulled the edges of her lips apart and wagged her tongue. He responded with the same sweet smile he had given his mother.
"I think he liked it," Jane chuckled. "Show us another one."
Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as she looked back at the baby with her lips pursed. More laughter soon followed. "Now you have a go, Mary."
Mary hesitated at first. She knew she had an image to uphold, she wasn't used to acting so silly. Still, she knew her little brother wouldn't be so little for long. She should consider herself lucky to even have one since his arrival had brought her family closer. She smiled and shrugged before sauntering over to the babe. She slowly reached her hand down and wriggled her fingers across the sole of his foot. Once he turned to look at her, she poked her tongue out slightly.
Her step-mother and step-sister laughed joyfully and Mary soon followed suit. Finally, after a day of endless laughter and stories, Jane sent the girls off to bed with a cuddle and a kiss. As she lay in bed, she looked over at her son who was now fast asleep in the cradle beside her.
"I'll be watching him carefully should anything arise. Now, get some rest."
Jane did as the nurse told and sank into the sheets, hugging the covers around herself. For the first time she could rest easily now that her baby was right by her side. With a content sigh, she closed her eyes, hoping for everyone's sake that her son would sleep through the night.
###
Days went by but Jane's fever only got higher, her aches worsened, and her appetite disappeared completely. She couldn't let anyone find out, so she tried not to make a fuss. She dutifully finished every meal without mentioning the intense pain in her stomach that followed every bite. Everytime Elizabeth came into her room wide-eyed and eager to play, Jane eagerly obliged, summoning what little strength she had. Whenever her mother or the nurse asked how she was feeling, she always gave the same response: "Much better." Her efforts seemed to have worked considering the number of times either of them had commended her for "making progress."
Then one day, the nurse granted Jane permission to get out of bed but only for a little while. So, she opted to take a walk through the garden, thinking that the fresh air would do her some good. She strolled along the stone pathways carrying her baby in her arms with Mary and Elizabeth walking right beside her.
"And these are the flowers we planted," Elizabeth said, pointing to the roses. "They're rather wilty but Mummy says we can plant new ones in the spring. Maybe then you'll be big enough to help us."
Jane smiled as Elizabeth continued to chatter eagerly. Suddenly, a sharp pain in her chest stopped her in her tracks. She began to cough as a phantom hand wrapped tightly around her throat, stealing the air from her lungs.
"Mother, are you alright?" Mary asked.
"I can't...catch...my breath," Jane wheezed, placing a hand on her chest.
Mary guided her stepmother over to a nearby bench, instructing her to sit down.
"Perhaps...we should...go inside. It's…so cold."
"But it's warm outside. Mummy, are you alright?"
The sights and sounds of the world around her began to fade. She prayed that she wouldn't vomit in front of the children as her stomach soured once again. Her heart knocked against her chest as though it were trying to break free from her ribcage.
No! Not now, she pleaded as she began to sway. Not while I've got a baby.
"Mummy, you're scaring me! You're talking strange!"
"I-I'm... sorry...I just...I—"
Then, everything went black.
###
In the midst of the darkness, two voices erupted.
"If anything happens to her, I'm holding you personally responsible. Her blood will be on your hands."
"You're not the only one who cares about her! Do you think I ever expected this?!" A
"You should have. If you truly cared about her, you would have prevented this. If I lose her now because of you...Well, I don't know what will happen. I don't know what I will do and that should terrify you."
She didn't know where the voices were coming from, but she had to find out. Hundreds of helpless pilgrims had suffered because of her cowardice. This time, she would not let that happen. But when she tried to sit up, someone (or something) forced her back down again. She tried to resist, but the little strength she had left her completely.
"It's alright, Jane, you're safe."
When she opened her eyes she saw a woman looking back at her with soft, dark-rimmed eyes peeking through her raven curls.
"Grace?"
"Yes, Jane. I'm right here. How are you feeling?"
Before she could answer, a sharp cramp racked her abdomen. Soon, everything she had eaten in the past few days surged up her throat and out her mouth.
Grace immediately grabbed an empty bowl and watched as Jane's body shook with a series of violent gags. "There, that's it, get it all out," she cooed, rubbing her back softly. After a few moments, the seemingly endless stream of retching finally ceased. "Is that everything?"
Jane nodded and sank back into her bed. "W-What happened?" she murmured.
"Mary said you were feeling short of breath. Then you started shivering and muttering incoherently before you collapsed."
That's when it all came back to her. The harsh chills, the swaying, the girls' terrified voices, and then—Oh God!
Jane immediately shot up and gasped, disregarding her state of weakness. "My son! Where is my son? I must know if he's—" her cries were stopped by a harsh coughing fit followed by yet another wave of dizziness which knocked her back down again.
"Don't worry, your son is just fine," Grace said. "Mary got him before you hit the ground."
Jane sighed in relief before placing a hand on her chest, wincing at the crushing pain that followed with every breath. "What's wrong with me?"
"I'm sorry, it isn't good." The midwife released a deep sigh. "You have childbed fever."
Jane's eyes widened with terror. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before she finally spoke. "I knew it. I knew there was something wrong this whole time." She clutched the covers tightly as she anticipated the midwife's array of questions. How did you know? How long have you been feeling ill? Why didn't you tell me?
She was the pacific, the thread that mended the family bond torn by grief and scandal. With so many people looking up to her and depending on her, the dread of letting anyone down always followed her. But how could she explain any of this?
To her surprise, the midwife simply said "I understand."
Then, Jane heard the door click open and a younger girl stepped in, placing a cold flannel on her forehead. "This should help a bit."
Jane hummed in content, thankful for the relief the cloth brought to her aching head.
"We will do everything we can to keep you as comfortable as possible," Grace said.
Immediately, Jane asked "May I please hold my baby?"
The midwife nodded. "Yes, of course. First, let's prop you up so you can breathe a little easier." Once she and her assistant had stacked a mountain of pillows against Jane's back, they both left.
Why did this have to happen to me? she lamented. Right when my son is newly born. Tracks of hot, angry tears flowed down her face, scorching her already burning cheeks. I was supposed to stay alive for him. For the girls. Now, they will all be left without a mother. And Henry…It would have been better if he had never met. None of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had to put them all through such heartache.
Jane shot up as the sudden click of the doorknob broke her train of thought. The door swung open and Grace walked in carrying her beloved son, wrapped in a blanket. She turned to the midwife with her hands outstretched and took him into her arms.
Even through the fabric of the blanket she could feel his soft, warm body against hers. She held a piece of the blanket between her thumb and forefinger when she noticed the crudely-stitched initials C.O.A. Then she remembered an encounter she'd had with her friend years ago.
…
Jane pressed her ear to the queen's door, taking care not to make any sudden noise. A small crack spread across her heart as her friend continued to sob. Just open the door, Jane, she said to herself.
She raised her hand to the door but pulled it back shortly after. She knew she shouldn't be there, standing outside the queen's bedroom door. After all, she had heard rumors that appearing uninvited the king or queen could get one severely punished, or worse...executed. But then she thought about everything that had happened that day.
She saw Catherine collapse with intense stomach cramps shortly after her return. She stood by her side as she endured hours of a gruelling labour. She watched as the midwife rubbed the baby vigorously, slapped the bottoms of his feet, and breathed gentle breaths into his mouth.
She remembered the midwife's slow, heavy tone when she finally said "I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could do," before she handed the baby to the queen. Catherine appeared to have taken the news stoically, but Jane could see her fighting back tears as the baby lay lifeless and still in her arms.
At that moment she decided that nothing else mattered. With Henry out, she knew someone had to be there to comfort Catherine. And that someone was her. She raised her hand again and knocked on the door. "Your Majesty? It's me, Jane. May I come in?"
The queen's cries slowly began to fade. She sniffed. She sighed. "I...I'm sorry. I'm-I'm trying to get some sleep."
"I beg your pardon, but you don't sound tired," Jane apologized. A sudden silence fell between the two."I'm coming in." Then, against all warnings, she opened the door. As she stepped into the room, she could see Catherine amidst the dim lights. The queen who had always stood tall before her people now crumbled on her bed, burying her face in her hands. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I know it's not my place to appear before you uninvited."
"It's alright," Catherine said. "I'm actually pleased to see you."
"Can I get you anything? Some tea, perhaps?"
"I-I just... please don't leave," the queen responded, her voice weak and trembling.
"Of course I won't leave you. I promise." Jane reached for her hand but Catherine pulled away and hung her head low.
"I'm sorry, Jane, I know I sound so pathetic."
"Believe me, you are anything but pathetic. I've watched you pick yourself up even when it seems easier to give up."
Catherine managed to form a slight smile, but it dropped quickly. "That's what everybody's been telling me. If only they knew…"
"Knew what?" Jane asked.
But Catherine didn't respond.
"Your Majesty, whatever it is that's troubling you I won't force you to tell me. But I'm here for you and you can talk to me if you want."
Jane watched as the queen slowly raised her head and looked at her with tear-filled eyes.
"I-If only they knew...how...hard it is!" she sobbed. "To spend months hoping and praying for a baby. To hold a baby that doesn't cry. To have to say goodbye before we have a chance to spend our lives together. To be told that it's God's will. And to go through it all time and time again!" Catherine threw herself into Jane's arms and wept.
Jane tried to find the words that would ease her friend's heavy heart. But when she opened her mouth, all she emitted was a faint sob. Her cries only rose as she watched the normally tenacious queen fall apart before her. For several moments she sat there, rubbing her back as she held her close. Once their tears ceased to fall, the two fell silent.
"I thought by now I would be used to the pain, but it never gets any easier."
"Your Majesty, I don't know what to say," Jane admitted. "I can only imagine what you've been through. I'm just so glad you've told me. I think I understand a bit more now."
"But what if I never have a child?"
Jane froze. She wanted to tell her that she would. But with no way to know for certain, she knew she would be lying to her. Still, she had to say something. "Your Highness, I can't say for sure that you will. But I pray that it will happen. Even if you never have children you'll still have me. I know it's not the same, but I will always be here, no matter what."
The queen wiped her eyes and sniffed as a faint smile spread across her lips. "Thank you, Jane," she said. "But from now on, you can call me Catherine if you'd like."
"Alright, Your Majesty—Catherine, don't blame yourself for what happened today. It's not your fault."
"I know it's not. I regret that it had to end like this but I don't regret what I did for you, for Anne and for everyone else."
…
As she looked into her baby's wide, innocent eyes her friend's words came back to her. She wouldn't get to hear his first words but she had already gotten to hear his first cries. She wouldn't get to watch him take his first steps but she had witnessed the moment he first opened his eyes.
She wouldn't be there to celebrate his first birthday but she was there for his christening. She would never get to watch him grow older but she had watched him grow as her belly grew rounder and wider as the months passed. It was then she knew that she could not regret what she did for love. But what about the girls?
…
"Childbed fever?! Surely you must be mistaken."
"Lady Mary, I have consulted with the physician and he agrees with my diagnosis," Grace said. "Shall I bring him to you?"
"No! Just...leave me!"
The midwife nodded slightly, then turned her back to the girls.
As she walked away, Mary stood with her fists clenched, her shoulders raised and stiff. For several minutes she stared straight ahead; unable to move, unable to think, unable to even speak. Her cold stare was only melted by streams of fiery tears running down her cheeks.
Elizabeth approached her step-sister and wrapped her arms around her legs. "It's okay, Mary. Mummy will be alright."
"No...no she won't," she said, shaking her head gravely.
"Of course she will. I've gotten fevers before and I got well after a few days."
"No, you don't understand, Elizabeth!" Mary hissed. "Most women don't recover from this! Grandmother died of childbed fever before I even got to meet her!"
Elizabeth froze as her older sister loomed over her with the fierceness of a fire-breathing dragon before sprinting off in the opposite direction.
"Wait! Elizabeth, I didn't mean to—" But before she could apologize, the girl was already out of sight. It was then she remembered the heated argument between her father and Jane one day. It had all begun with her stepmother's desperate pleas, followed by a cacophony of enraged voices. Then, her father's voice erupted from amidst the chaos, shaking the walls of the palace and shocking the world into silence.
"Enough! As my wife I expect you to know your place! Need I remind you what happened to the last woman who didn't mind her place? I can easily get rid of you just as I did with her!"
Instantly her stepmother had come running down the hall, her body trembling and her soft eyes filled with tears. Was that who she was doomed to become? A cruel, merciless barbarian?
Mary collapsed to the floor and buried her face in her hands. "What have I done?!" she sobbed. " I-I'm so sorry, Elizabeth!" Suddenly, she heard a gentle, high-pitched voice call her name. She looked up to find her younger step-sister standing before her.
"Here, Mary, this will help you feel better," she said, extending her blanket.
At first, the older girl just stared at her. How could Elizabeth be so kind to her after the way she had spoken to her? Then Elizabeth thrust the blanket towards her again. So she took it, buried her face in the cloth, and wept.
"Lady Mary," one of the maids said. "The queen requests your presence and she asks that you bring in Princess Elizabeth as well."
Mary wiped her eyes and sniffed. "You heard what she said. Mummy wants to see us," So, she took Elizabeth by the hand and led her towards their stepmother's bedchamber.
…
As Jane anxiously waited for the girls, one question plagued her mind: How am I going to tell my children that I'm dying? From a young age she had been taught how to be a chaste and loving wife. Her own mother had shown her how to be a kind and nurturing mother to her own children. Her father had told her and her brothers everything he knew about the scriptures. Yet no one had prepared her for this. Jane massaged her temples in an attempt to bring some relief to her aching head but the pain only increased the harder she tried to think.
The knob turned, the door swung open, and there stood Mary and Elizabeth, hand-in-hand. Jane beckoned the girls over and they slowly proceeded towards her.
Mary took her stepmother's clammy hand and pressed her lips to her cheek. "I'm sorry you're ill, Mother."
Although she tried to stay strong, Jane could hear in her voice that she was fighting back tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words came trembling as they slowed to a crawl. "I-I'm...s-s-so s-so—"
"Shh, it's alright, Mother," Mary interrupted.
Determined to deliver her message Jane took a deep, defiant breath and winced as another sharp pain struck her chest. "I'm sorry...that I ever made either of you feel...that my love...was something you had to earn."
"Mother, I've long since forgiven you."
"Besides, we can play again when you feel better," Elizabeth said.
Jane's heart sank deep in her chest. She had tried to put on a brave face for the girls. But seeing how little her young stepdaughter understood formed a lump in her throat. Jane shook her head. " I-I'm sorry… I'm afraid...I won't... be able to...to play with you anymore."
"Don't talk like that!" Elizabeth commanded. "You were ill before but then you got well again."
"Yes, but...this is...a different...kind of illness."
Elizabeth looked back at her with a confused glance.
"Sometimes... people become so ill... that no... doctor or... m-medicine can heal them." Jane soon found herself losing the battle with tears as her eyes began to water and her lip quivered. "B-But I... p-promise you... we will see each-other again... someday."
"But that won't be for ages!" Elizabeth said, her voice shaking. "What will I do until then?"
Jane paused for a moment as she tried to find a way to console the young girl. "Whenever you feel... alone, think of... the happy times we have shared together."
"Like the time we planted flowers in the garden last Easter? Or when you helped me tell the story of the French soldier girl?"
"Or the first Christmas we spent together?" Mary asked.
"Yes, that's it," Jane said.
"But what about Eddie? He's only a baby."
"Elizabeth... do you... remember... the story of... Miriam and Moses?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Well... I need...I need you... t-to help... take care of...of...Edward. Just like... Mirian took care of... her little brother. I need you... t-to look after him... and give him lots of cuddles... and tell him stories about his mother. Do you promise?"
"Yes, Mummy, I promise."
The bedroom door opened once again, this time revealing a tall man dressed in robes and bearing a cross and a small jar of oil. He then sat beside the bedside and placed the jar on the adjacent table. "Your Majesty, the king has requested my presence. Would you like to receive the last rites?"
Jane nodded. The service began with the sign of the cross. After her final confession, the minister took the oil from the bedside table and anointed her head. "Through this holy anointing may the Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up."
Shortly thereafter, the king came bursting through the door. His heavy footsteps boomed throughout the room as he approached his beloved wife. His face softened once he met her glassy eyes. He clung to her as she slowly slipped away from him, paying no mind to the tears running down his face.
Seeing her powerful husband in such a state rendered her speechless. In all the years she had known him she could only recall one or two times she had ever seen him cry. But in the little time she had left with him and the children, she knew she had to say something. "H-Henry," she started. "Please...don't be cross with...with Grace. I-I did not want you...to find me...weak. I-I'm sorry."
"I could never be cross with you, my love," he said. "Childbirth may have gotten the better of you, but that doesn't mean I find you weak."
"On the contrary," Grace said. "It takes immeasurable strength to bring a new life into this world."
"Henry...don't stop living...because of me. That's all I ask of you."
Jane then looked over at her older stepdaughter. "Mary...how you've grown...Such a… a beautiful...bright young woman. Don't let...anyone…tell you...otherwise."
Then, she turned to face the younger girl. "Elizabeth... you have...quite...an imagination...Use it...for something...wonderful."
Finally, she looked down at the baby resting in her arms. "And my...my dear Edward..." These simple words were soon followed by a gentle tune that poured forth from her mouth. "Soon I'll have to go. I'll never see you grow. But I hope that you will know, you'll never be alone. 'Cause like a river runs dry and leaves its scars behind. I'll be by your side. 'Cause my love...is set in stone."
Then, she closed her eyes and took her final breath.
A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter had to be such a downer. I just couldn't pretend that Jane's story didn't have such a tragic end. But this story doesn't end here. I promise you that this story will have some semblance of a happy ending.
The date I've chosen to publish this story on actually holds some significance to me. Today is Good Friday, the day Catholics like me commemorate Jesus' suffering and death on the cross to save us from our sins. Although it's considered a very sorrowful day, the weight is eased somewhat by the anticipation of Easter Sunday. We acknowledge and understand that although death is extremely difficult for us to face we know that there's light at the end of the tunnel.
Even if you aren't Catholic, I hope you will take time to remember your friends and loved ones who have passed away. Think of all the good times you've had and the happy memories you've made. It may seem like too much to handle at times but it will get better. Until then, remember to take time to grieve and take good care of yourselves. Having such strong feelings might seem uncomfortable or even wrong at first. But remember that your feelings are valid and let yourself sit with them.
As always, reviews would be very much appreciated. I'm always looking to improve my writing and your input would really help me understand how I can do that. I've looked over this chapter a few times and made plenty of edits, but I'd still like to hear an outsider's opinion. Have a very happy Easter. If you don't celebrate Easter, I still hope you'll find time to relax and enjoy the company of those you love most.