She lifted her chin proudly, a last act of defiance and waited.

"Forgive me," Anna said brokenly. With a sob, she began to squeeze the trigger.

*********************************************

25th December 2008, Pine Valley.

Bianca Montgomery watched contentedly from the comfort of her plush armchair as her daughter sang to her newly born grandson, just like she herself did with Miranda, all those years ago. 

She caught her reflection on the mirror above the fireplace; hair of sliver, face lined with wrinkles, body hunched and fragile. She smiled to herself, it didn’t feel so long ago when she was filled with youthful energy, when walking didn’t hurt and life was full of promises. 

In her twilight years, she found herself reminiscing of days gone by, the air swirling with nostalgia. She saw them clearly, playing like an old movie before her eyes; her first love and heartbreak, the uncertain and turbulent years in war torn Paris, the everlasting friendship she found, coming home, raising a family and most of all, the exhilarating joy of finding that someone who she would love for all the days of her life, even after she was gone. For that, she would consider herself blessed.

"Mom, are you all right? You’ve been very quiet the entire evening," Miranda asked as she cradled young Jackson in her arms.

She smiled, "I’m all right, just a little tired."

"It is getting late. Why don’t you go to bed?"

"No, it’s fine. I want to spend as much time as I can with my family, I might not have much left." 

"Mom, you’re being morbid again," Miranda frowned.

The topic of death had always made her daughter uncomfortable, she said gently, "Miranda, I’m eighty-nine years old. With the exception of you and the kids, everyone I loved is gone. I’m the only one left behind; I think I’m entitled to be a little morbid."

"Mom, it’s Christmas, no talk of death allowed," Miranda insisted.

She laughed lightly, "All right, I’ll try." Looking at Jackson, she held out her arms, "Here, let me hold him for a while."

Miranda gently placed Jack on her mother’s lap. 

"Such a beautiful child." She gazed at her great grandson, resisting the urge to pinch his chubby cheeks. 

Jackson gripped her finger, waving his other arm and laughed. Her heart swelled with joy, laced with a hint of sadness, knowing she would not be around to see him grow into a man.