Anne had been crying for days. Her sweet baby boy was dead. Turned evil by the callousness of his father who had never really loved him! Oh how Anne had tried to protect him, as she tried to protect all her children from that odious man. But she had failed Magnus. Her poor little Magnus.

And she didn't even get a lot of sympathetic callers paying their respects and pitying her. No one seemed willing to come and comfort her and console her and care for her as she deserved as a mourning mother. Everyone seemed to keep their distance all of a sudden - despite the crowd showing up to this spectacle.

At least her mourning clothes were to the latest fashion, with a softer type of black crepe, a delicate black veil, and the newer, smaller jet beads in her jewelry. She did look better than any other mourner Whitby had ever seen.

Continuously reaching under her veil to dab her eyes with her handkerchief, she sniffed and sobbed her way through the service, hating the man sitting next to her with a hatred that would impress the devil. She was relieved when her husband got up, walked over to the coffin and then cleared off. This was his fault.

She looked up teary-eyed when finally someone paid attention to her and paid his respects. She dabbed her eyes and sniffed once more. "Thank you, Mr. Culpepper."

Then she nodded at her son's proposal, and leaning heavily on him for support she made her way over to the coffin. Her knees were trembling as she walked and her sobs got heavier. Then when she finally saw the young man's mutilated body, she just couldn't bear it. She gasped dramatically and fainted, though slow enough for Robert to catch her.