Chapter Seven

Rosemary did not tell Father about the dream.

That day, during training, Father shared with her a nice memory.

The room in the memory was small and crowded, but filled with happiness. At least a dozen people sat gathered around a long table, all of them laughing and smiling. An older couple sat closest to her, looking on at everyone with small, contented smiles. A feeling of warmth filled the room as food was passed around the table. Rosemary felt something she could not describe - was it safety? In the other memory, she had felt the same thing, but there was no fear here. She settled on the feeling of satisfaction and comfort.

Love. The word came to her. This strong feeling was love. And she knew now what Father meant when he said that he loved her. Growing up, she had been taught that love was a generalized term, one without any real meaning. It was more precise to say you enjoyed someone, or were proud of them. Love was a term that no one used anymore. But Rosemary knew that love was something no one felt anymore. Until she received this memory, she hadn't felt it either.

As much as she enjoyed the memory, it did nothing to take away the ache inside of her. Her first troubling memory had had love in it as well, even though she couldn't name it. But love was not strong enough to stop those men from stealing the woman's child. Love wasn't strong enough to stop them from killing the man, the husband, the father. Love wasn't strong enough to comfort her, to remove her fear.

"Father," she said tentatively, not looking at him. "I know that you do not want to give me hard memories."

"Rosemary, there is a time for them. But not now."

"Please, Father!" Rosemary raised her voice, suddenly growing impatient. She sighed and shook her head. "I am not a child anymore. This is my responsibility. All of the other Twelves are training for their Assignments and they are learning everything that pertains to it. Why should I be any different?"

"Because you are different. Don't you see? That is the reason why you were selected as the next Receiver. You can do what no other Twelves can. You can see beyond."

Rosemary glared at him. "Father, I do not wish for you to continue holding back. I want you to give me the hard memories. Painful ones. They are my responsibility."

Father sighed and crossed his arms. "Why do you want pain, Rosemary?"

She closed her eyes. Why do you want pain? She wasn't sure if she could answer the question. Rosemary thought about pain. She'd crushed her toe in a door once. The pain from the injury had been staggering. Her mind had not focused on anything other than the pain.

"More pain should take my mind off the fear," she mumbled.

Father didn't seem to hear her. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders.