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Grace Hamilton was Alexander Hamilton's youngest daughter. Largely forgotten by history, she was called a curse to her family. She died of smallpox at age thirteen. At least, in your universe she did.

In this universe, however, she lived.

-

Grace lay in bed, her freckles and pox mixing. Sweat dotted her brow. Spots danced before her eyes. She was weak. Very weak. She swore she could see light shining down on her from above.

"Mama?" she whispered hoarsely. "Tell Lys I love her."

Eliza's eyes tears up. "Of course, darling. Anything," she choked out.

Grace smiled, her face at peace. Her eyes glazed over. "See you soon, Papa..." she whispered, her heartbeat slowing. However, it didn't stop. She continued to live. To breathe. the light she'd seen turned to darkness as she drifted to feverish sleep.

-

Now-eighteen-year-old Grace stood in front of her mirror, brushing her long red hair. She wore a white dress that dragged with each step. Pearls adorned her pale throat. She looked beautiful, the only reminder of her bout of smallpox being the scars that covered her body.

Her sister, Diana bustled in. "I found those earrings you were looking for!" she exclaimed, holding a pair of pearl earrings. The brunette placed the jewelry in her little sister's hand. She smiled. "I can't believe you're getting married," she said, standing behind Grace with her hands on the redhead's shoulders.

"Nor can I," Grace replied honestly. She hadn't thought she would live to be fourteen. But here she was, five years after she'd stared down death, about to marry a man she didn't love.

She once thought she might have loved him. But her heart would forever belong to Alyssa, who had returned to Canada years ago. She thought back to the kiss she'd shared with the girl, back when they were only twelve. It was at that moment, she knew love. But Alyssa would leave, having faced racism and violence.

Jack Turner. Son of a general, two years her senior. Their fathers had served together in the revolution. He had fallen for her and asked for her hand. So, with no one better to spend her life with, she accepted.

"My baby sister is going to be a bride," Diana said, wiping faux tears from her eyes. "They grow up so fast."

"Yeah, we do," Grace agreed absentmindedly. She set her brush down and looked at her reflection. Mylia, her best friend, had told Grace she was lucky to find a man, as her face was marred by scars from the pox. Grace knew she was ugly because of it. Not many men would still find her pretty. But Jack did. 

She stood, her auburn hair cascading down her back. She took her sister's hand. 

"Come on," Diana said. "George is waiting."

The pair walked to the entry of the church. George stood, wearing a fine suit. He ran a hand through his blond hair. "Ready, Gracie?" he asked, holding out his arm to her. She took it, nodding.

Inside the church, the wedding march began to play. George opened the doors and out they stepped. The entire church turned to watch them. Grace saw her mother and siblings sitting with the Turners. Angel and her kids were on the back row. Diana's kids were with TJ and Elizabeth. Grace glanced over at Jack's family. His sister, Mariah, waved sweetly.

Grace looked back to the altar, where Jack waited. He smiled as she walked up the aisle. Soon she reached the altar and George let go of her, leaving to sit with Diana and the kids. Grace gazed into her groom's dark eyes, forcing a smile.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

-

Grace sat on the roof with Alyssa, their fingers intertwined.

"Lys?" she asked nervously. "I wanna tell you something."

"What is it?" Alyssa asked, cocking her head.

"I- I think I love you. In the way that a man loves his wife."

Alyssa smiled widely. "I love you too. In the way that a man loves his wife."

With that, Grace kissed her. She knew she was in love. She wondered if this was how Eliza had felt when she met Alexander.

-

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest declared. Jack took Grace in his arms and kissed her passionately. She allowed him, pulling back just in time to see a familiar woman in the back of the room, near the door. She turned and left, wiping her eye as she did. Grace felt her heart pang as she held her new husband's hand.

She fought back the urge to call out, her childhood friend's name ringing in her ears.

Alyssa.

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