“Someone else has to do it.”
Magda’s brow lifted. “Touchy, isn’t it?”
“It can be when it comes to matters of power. It expects you to be respected.”
“The length of my hair can’t earn me respect.”
Merritt shrugged. “I’m just warning you.”
Magda leaned into him, smiling as she tucked her shoulder under his arm. “Thanks for the warning.”
Merritt grinned as he put his arm around her. “Sure.” He pointed. “Is that the confession flower from your box of memories?”
Magda nodded. “I wanted to wear it today. Baraccus sacrificed his life so that this course for our future could come to be. He gave his life that we all might be standing here today and have this chance. I think he would be pleased.”
“I think he would be, too,” Merritt said.
Magda twirled the little white flower between her finger and thumb, watching it spin, thinking about all that had brought her to be the Mother Confessor.
As the flower was spinning in her fingers, it began to become transparent. She could see right through it.
And then, the flower vanished.
It was gone. Simply, gone.
“Did you see that?” Magda asked in astonishment.
“I sure did.”
She looked up at Merritt’s handsome features. “What do you think it could mean?”
“I think it means whatever you want it to mean.”
Magda looked down at her empty fingers a moment.
“Everything,” she finally said. “It means everything.”
END