яαιѕє α gℓαѕѕ тσ fяєє∂σм ☆ adopted by a.ham

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   sixty years later
   I sat in my rocking chair with Amelia and Francis, along with my grandchildren. "I do miss him dearly. Yet he was a great and brave soldier, politician, and father. And that, children, is the story of my life and the story of his."
   They clapped, but Amelia just rolled her eyes. "Mother, we've heard that one almost everyday. Change it up a bit?"
   "I'd never change Alexander Hamilton's story," I scolded.
   One of my grandchildren raised their hand. "How long ago was he shot?"
   "Philip!" Francis scolded, "You can't ask questions like that!"
   I chuckled. "It's alright, Francis. He's only nine. Let's see... It's 1864 now, so sixty years ago."
   "Did he have any friends?" another asked.
   "Yes, of course. John Laurens died at a young age, but Marquis de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan lived for a bit longer. They're gone now, though."
   "How about rivals?" Philip squeaked.
   "Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Aaron Burr. Again, everyone is gone."
   One of them gasped. "Woah, he knew two of our presidents? Awesome."
   I nodded with a giggle. "I met them, too."
   They all squealed with delight and I beamed. They're going to be fine people someday, just like their great grandfather.

   I laid in bed, beaming at the ceiling. Cornelia sat at my bedside, looking down at me. I nodded at her.
   "Thank you for coming."
   "Of course. I have no one else to tend to," she said softly. She never married. She was old and frail like myself, but she didn't have stomach cancer. "Hey, Y/N?"
   "Yes?"
   "Say hi to the Hamilton's for me. Promise?"
   I smiled. "I promise."

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