Carrington swallowed her panic and found her feet. Her legs felt like gelatin and the ground swayed beneath her. It was impossible to ignore the slight glances from girls she knew, girls she had grown up with, girls from her practicing classes, girls now standing beside the men who had chosen them.
The Exiting Room was through a large set of mahogany double doors along the far east side of the Grand Capitol Ballroom. There were at least thirty other girls moving throughout the room, each one with a CityWatch escort.
Carrington kept her eyes on the marble floor, studying the shimmer of her red ball gown reflecting in the polished shine. How many hours had she spent dreaming about wearing this dress? This gown had represented a perfect moment. Now it would remind her of how worthless she really was.
As she passed through the doorway into the Exiting Room, a shudder crawled down Carrington’s back. Surely there had been a mistake. If she could just have a couple more minutes . . . he would be there; he would choose her. She turned to rush back into the room that held all her hopes and dreams and watched as two guards pushed the doors closed. The sound echoed to the ceiling above her, and she fought to keep from collapsing.
Carrington heard whimpers from the girls around her as the reality of where they were spread through the group like a contagion. The realization that everything they had worked for since the moment they understood their purpose was gone. They were nothing without that purpose.
As was customary, the families of the girls were brought in for their good-byes. They had only a few moments before the CityWatch would round the girls up and transport them by train across the river to live and serve as Authority Workers. As “Lints.” They would no longer be daughters or sisters, no longer attached to the families that had raised them, no longer a part of the world they had known. Now they would submit to the Authority, receive a low-level trade, and remain loyal to that trade until death. This was the law, given to them by God, set into motion by the Holy Robert Carson many years ago during the Time of Ruin.
Carrington closed her eyes and tried to focus on the pounding of her heart. She had been taught since childhood that everyone had a place, everyone was called to serve, and all were summoned by God to obey the laws of the Veritas. She’d hoped for a different future, prayed for a different path, but this road was now hers to walk. She could not change it. She opened her eyes and hoped that a small sense of comfort would begin to ease through her clenched muscles, but it didn’t.
A small hand tugged on the side of Carrington’s dress and she glanced down to see a familiar pair of deep-set blue eyes. She forced a grin and was greeted with a crooked smile. Tears welled along her bottom eyelids and she choked back the swell of emotion.
“Did you get picked?” he asked.
Carrington softly lowered herself to his level so she could look into her baby brother’s eyes. She gently ran her fingers through his golden hair and it flowed across them like silk, thin and soft like her own. He looked very much like her—round face, tiny nose, unwanted scattered freckles that still looked adorable at his age—all but his striking blue eyes. Those he had gotten from their mother.
No. The word sat in her mouth like a foul taste. Even at four years old, Warren would understand that this was not the desired outcome. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. Fighting back another round of tears, she stood and was confronted by her mother’s glare.
Some mothers were embracing their daughters, spending their last moments together reassuring them that even from afar they would always have their mothers’ love. Carrington knew that she would not be granted this kind of comfort from the woman before her.
She could see the disapproval twisted in the angry lines around her mother’s mouth. Cold eyes bored into Carrington with utter disappointment, casting a chill through the blood in her veins. She balled her fists tightly at her sides, her pale skin now ghostly white.
Her mother drew closer, grabbed for Warren, and pulled him away from his sister. The boy’s small face changed; he knew something was wrong. He clutched the side of his mother’s dress with tiny, fearful hands.
“Mother, I—”
“One thing, Carrington; only one thing was required of you.” Her mother’s voice was harsh and tight. “After everything I have done for you, how could you fail me so gravely?”
The strength to hold back her tears was fading as her mother’s words crashed against her like physical blows.
“How is it possible you were not chosen? Girls half your worth were chosen while you just stood around and watched like a fool.”
“Mother, I tried.”
“Well, clearly you didn’t try hard enough or we would not be standing here!”
“Vena,” a comforting voice interjected.
Carrington’s father appeared like blanketing warmth. He laid his hand on his wife’s shoulder in a firm but loving grasp that seemed to defuse her momentarily. Then he stepped around her toward Carrington.
The urge to throw herself into his arms was overwhelming, but Carrington knew she would crumple into a ball of hysterics if she did. His eyes were green like hers. His face and hands had aged beyond his years from working long, hard hours in the Cattle Lands, but his smile was youthful, and the sight of it amplified what she was losing.
He gently pushed a loose strand of hair from Carrington’s face and placed a warm kiss on her cheek.
“Remember, we all have our place,” he said quietly.
Her mother let out an aggravated huff.
“Vena . . .”
“This is not supposed to be her place, Seth. She was supposed to be chosen.”
Tears gathered in her mother’s eyes, but Carrington knew her mother was crying for herself, for the way people would look at her now that her only daughter was an Unchosen. It was a mother’s duty to raise daughters whom men would be proud to take as wives. And the truth was, she had failed as much as Carrington.
She wished her mother could cry for her, mourn this day as it would be the last they had together; yet it was foolish to think her mother could be anything other than who she was.
“But she wasn’t chosen, Vena,” her father said. “So this is her place now.”
A loudspeaker creaked to life overhead and the room fell to a hush.
“Good evening. This is Ian Carson, Authority President. I want to greet each of you as you make the transition from being children to assuming your roles as contributing members of society. Though this day may be clouded with grief, you must remember that we all have a place and a purpose. You are still a significant part of our growing city. Remember what the book of Veritas says: ‘A man’s heart plans his way, but God directs his steps.’ On behalf of the Authority, I wish you well in your new responsibilities. As God set forth the law, so the law must be obeyed.”
The room echoed in unison as the girls all recited the phrase as familiar to them as their own names. “As God set forth the law, so the law must be obeyed.”
“The train has now arrived. The CityWatch will escort you to the platform. Please conclude your farewells and make your way to the exit. Authority Workers, may you take pride in your service,” Ian said before another screech bounced around the room and then fell silent.
To the right, several guards pulled open another large set of double doors that let in the chilled night air. Carrington could see the side of a steel train car, and a pit formed in her stomach. This was it.
She dropped to her knees and pulled her little brother to her chest. She wasn’t sure if he completely understood what was happening or if the entire situation was just too overwhelming, but tiny tears streaked the sides of his face.
She squeezed him until she thought he might pop and then pulled away, took his face in her hands, and pressed the end of her nose to his. “I love you, Warren. Never forget that.”
A small whimper left his lips, and tears rushed down Carrington’s cheeks. Her chest cramped with pain and she struggled to breathe.
�
�Assemble,” a guard yelled from across the room.
Carrington stood and stared as the CityWatch guided girls quickly into a line to head toward the train.
Her father leaned over and hugged her tightly. She could feel the dampness from his chin on the top of her head.
Once separated from her father, she turned to face her mother. The woman was rigid and aloof, but she reached out and wiped the tears from Carrington’s face. “Be good,” she said, and her voice quivered with a hint of emotion.
“It’s time to go,” a guard said.
Carrington hadn’t noticed him approach. She nodded and moved with the man. A hand reached out and grabbed hers and she spun back around. Warren held her hand tightly, his eyes wide with fear.
“Stay,” he said.
“I can’t, Warren. But don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“Now,” the guard said.
Carrington yanked her hand away and watched her brother erupt into wails of confusion. Raging sadness threatened her balance, but she managed to remain steady as she followed the guard away from her family.
“Carrington!” Warren yelled.
She didn’t dare turn around for fear that her legs would stop working.
“Carrington!”
She could hear her mother and father trying to console the child as she stepped onto the train platform. Drawing one last breath of the air that held freedom, Carrington moved onto the train filled with weeping girls. Even as the CityWatch guard slammed the door shut she could still hear the heart-wrenching cries of the little boy she’d never get to watch grow up.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are dozens of people who deserve acknowledgment for helping me walk through this novel. More than I’ll probably remember, and more than I have time or space to name. Beautiful souls that were brought into my life specifically for the moments of struggle that came with writing this book. Because it was a difficult road, with turns I didn’t expect, and heartache as the characters led me into places where I really had to examine the view I had of myself.
I could list names, but at this point I’m sure all those involved know the role they played and how impactful they were. So instead of the normal listing of each, I’m going to say only this:
To my heavenly Father, my brother Jesus, and the Spirit that softly held my hand, I would have struggled without purpose if not for you. In the moments when I was unaware of you, you were with me. Letting me discover and fall so that I would end up back in your light. Loving, leading me to the truth of who I am. Showing me how to see myself without shame or fear, as you see me. Teaching me to trust the call given, the Spirit leading, and the story that is always unfolding in me.
I rest in your light, a light that lives in me, that I see in others, and that reminds me the rest is only shadows.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Alicen and Victoria both have strong ideas about what they deserve. Contrast this with what each of them receives in the story. What is the right balance between grace and consequences? When should people receive what they are due, and when should we give them grace?
In this book we see some characters who suffer from mental illness, others who have spiritual vision, and possibly a few who fall into both categories. How can Christians approach the subject of mental illness with dignity and respect? How can we become advocates for people who suffer from it?
In your circles, do you find there’s a stigma regarding mental health? How can you learn more about this issue? What books can you read, or what professionals can you talk to?
Mental health and spiritual health are distinct matters, both of them crucial to a person’s overall well-being. What kind of help does Victoria need for her mental health? For her spirit?
Though this is a work of speculative fiction, there are people who think they receive messages from angels or other beings that people around them can’t see or hear. If you knew someone who claimed to see and hear angels or other voices, what steps could you take to get appropriate help?
Think of someone in your life who faces a mental health challenge, large or small. How can you be a supportive friend as they manage this condition?
Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven” (Matthew 18:3-4). Why is childlike faith so important? As we grow up, what changes make it harder to maintain this childlike faith? How can we become like children again?
Alicen and Victoria both are tempted to think they are beyond forgiveness. What causes Alicen to finally accept it? Why does Victoria refuse? What in your past makes it hard for you to forgive yourself?
Alicen endures a heart-rending tragedy in her life that nearly breaks her. When you recall the most difficult moments of your own life, where do you turn for hope? Are there any passages of Scripture that you find particularly comforting?
The Bible records people seeing messengers from God. Do you think this happens still today? What evidence should we look for when people make such claims? How can we discern among delusions, deceptions, and true revelations from God? (See 1 John 4:1.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The oldest daughter of New York Times bestselling author Ted Dekker, Rachelle Dekker was inspired early on to discover truth through storytelling. She won a Christy Award for her critically acclaimed debut novel, The Choosing, which was followed by two more books in the Seer series: The Calling and The Returning. Rachelle graduated with a degree in communications and spent several years in marketing and corporate recruiting before making the transition to write full-time. She lives in Nashville with her husband, Daniel, and their diva cat, Blair. Visit her online at www.rachelledekker.com.
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