Papa regularly visited me after that day, but it seemed that the visits were becoming shorter and shorter. I cared not for why I was still locked away in the single room, why there was always someone there. But there was, and I simply wished the Papa would be the one to be there more often. Not to say that I had become any less fond of Anthony.

The Toby lad seemed to follow Anthony more often nowadays. Only a few days had gone by since Papa had visited me again, but I was too shocked about Toby actually visiting me that time seemed nothing any more. I could not help but notice that the lad did not seem to find me as interesting as I found him. It was tedious, but I ignored it.

"Why is Papa still so busy?" I asked quietly to Anthony as I slowly flipped the pages of the book he had handed me.

"Oh, simple business, I'm sure. He had spoken a long time to Mrs Lovett."

At this, Toby twitched slightly. Both of us stared at him, but then turned back to each other.

"Why would he want to speak to Mrs Lovett, Anthony? She isn't nearly all that interesting."

"I really haven't a clue, Johanna," he said tiredly. I remembered in that instant that I had asked this question several times in the past hour, word for word. I was far too busy with my book to pay attention to it thought.

My finger absent-mindedly wound a lock of hair around it, letting it spring loose again, then repeating this action again. Anthony calmly tried to push my hand away several times, but each time I simply did it again. Soon enough, he lost hope and instead carefully wrapped his arms around me, rocking me gently as we read together.

Toby watched us, I could tell. I did not know why, although I was not unnerved. The words on the page in front of me were distracting, so I could only observe my surroundings without much opinion. Anthony's eyes darted from me to the book to Toby, repeating this. Of course, he watched me most of all.

Our days went by in this fashion for a week or so. Each day Papa seemed to become more and more melancholy. I did not ask why. I was still content enough in knowing he was there. Mrs Lovett would often pop into the room as well, but with enough coercing she finally would leave.

"Why must she always follow you about?" I asked him as casually as I could summon.

"There are certain reasons."

"But what are they?"

Papa sighed resignedly, not answering. I pulled his sleeve lightly, easily impatient.

"Papa, please, what are the reasons?"

"I don't suppose you remember your mother, do you?"

I paused, thinking deeply. Closing my eyes and putting my clenched fists to my temples, I concentrated hard on the question. Gently, Papa nudged me.

"Johanna?"

Immediately, I looked up, my hands again on my lap, a smile on my face.

"I do."

"Excuse me?"

"I do remember," I said firmly. Papa looked at me, his eyebrows raised.

"Now, Johanna, you don't."

"But I do!"

"No, you-"

"I do," I repeated, my tone more earnest.

"It's quite impossible, Johanna. You were only a baby."

"So? I remember she had yellow hair, like mine."

Papa shook his head.

"I showed you a picture of her."

"But, that doesn't mean-" I stammered my words, trying to grasp at a memory- any memory. It was of no use. Most of memories had gone. I knew of nothing much before a few weeks ago. I found it was a limit I could not surpass. Once one week had gone, a week of thoughts erased from my mind.

The full impact of these thoughts appeared, and finally they became all too much. Tears poured from my cheeks, and I muttered through quiet sobs.

"I can remember!" I murmured intently. "I can, I can, I can!"

"Hush, now, Johanna. You need not fear. I never expected you to remember." Papa soothingly rocked me, trying to calm me. It would not work, though. I knew deep down that I could remember my mother. I just did not know how I could remember, or what about her I could summon to memory.

I detested myself for that moment. What sort of a fool could not remember their parent? The woman who gave life to them? I knew I was not the brightest candle; the exasperated tones around me told me just that. But I should have at least had enough mind to remember such important things.

My sobs racked through me fiercely at this.

"I know I can remember!"

"Johanna, do not strain yourself," Papa said, almost commanding me. I nodded slowly, wiping away my tears.

"Why did you even bother asking?" I asked thickly, irritated. Papa held me at arms length, looking into my eyes.

"Do you at least miss the idea of having a mother?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"Well, think."

I did so, slightly confused. I nodded finally, unable to think of a better answer. Papa seemed quite delighted, a smile appearing on his lips.

"Wonderful, Johanna!"

"Papa?"

He only embraced me tightly for a moment, confusing me even more. Papa seemed almost to laugh, though I found it quite impossible. I pushed him away from me gently, my brow knit.

"Why is it wonderful?"

"Johanna, I have found you a mother at last."

"Mothers can't be found," I reminded him.

"Well, yes, of course, but-"

"Unless there is a branch somewhere you got her from, I shan't hold any interest," I said, suddenly imaging trees from which my mother would have grown. Papa put his hands on my shoulders, shaking me slightly from my state.

"No, Johanna, please, do listen. Do you understand the concept of marriage?"

"Yes," I said quickly, not wishing to look silly. He stared at me, though, and finally I shook my head. "No."

"If I were to marry, it would give you a mother," he said. I waited for him to add to this, not fully understanding.

"Who would you marry, Papa?"

"That is the…news, to say the least, that I wished to tell you." Papa sighed heavily, his eyes closing in a moment of thought. When he looked back at me, it was almost an irritant look, thought not directly because of me.

"Papa?"

"It is out Mrs Lovett, Johanna," he said in a tone that seemed thick with forced sweetness.

"But Mrs Lovett is odd," I commented.

"Even so, she is going to be your mother."

"Why do I need a mother?" I asked quietly.

"It is something I wish you to have."

"There's never been a fuss before."

"There has never been need for a fuss before," he replied almost despondently.

"What fuss-"

"Do not ask why, or what, or how, Johanna. You would never understand it."

For once, I did not argue any longer. Papa patted my shoulder and then rose.

"I must leave now, I should think. It won't be long before she knocks upon the door again." We did not need to discuss who she was.

All of a sudden, my mind started to race. I could not explain why. I barely cared why. All I knew was that finally, my mind was being put to use. Finally, I knew something, I had a memory. Before he was out of my reach, I grabbed Papa's sleeve, dragging him towards me. He took the message kindly and sat by me again.

"Papa! Papa, I remember now!"

"Remember what?"

"Mother! I remember her, I'm sure of it now."

"Johanna, for the very last time, it is quite-"

"Impossible, so you have said! But Papa, I do remember!"

Papa looked at me, then sighed pityingly.

"If you say so. What do you remember of her, if I might ask?"

"She sang so sweetly," I said in a hushed voice, earnest. "Never once did she like to sing, but she did it! It was ever so lovely."

Papa was silent.

I smiled, trying to make him smile as well. It seemed that Papa was unable to smile. His jaw was slack with what seemed shock. I waved a hand at him, and saw barely a response. After a moment or so, he finally stood.

"As I said, Mrs Lovett will probably call soon enough. I don't suppose you wish for her to disturb us when we are not ready?"

"No." I was deeply confused, not knowing quite what Papa wished for me to say or do. When the door closed, it was not long before Anthony came to me. I did not pay attention to him, though.

I had at least remembered something for the day.