Emily's hands trembled.
She swallowed hard and said in a hoarse voice, "I killed you. I killed both of you. You were crying when I—when I did it. How could you not hate me for that?"
Diana only smiled.
She cupped Emily's cheeks with both hands and made her look up.
"We weren't crying of our death," she said. "We were sad because we wouldn't get to see you grow up. As for our deaths, that is nothing to be sad about."
Emily blinked, stunned, while her mother continued.
Her thumbs brushed Emily's damp skin as she spoke,
"Your father and I… we lived long lives, Emily. We saw more than enough of what this world could give us. We had each other, and then we had a daughter. What else could we have asked for?"
She leaned forward and pinched Emily's cheek with the same gentle playfulness she had shown when Emily was little.
"Even at the end, we found a way to protect you. That was enough. More than enough. There is nothing in that to regret."
