![]() He likes her face and the shape of her, so he makes quiet arrangements with her father. Rose is sixteen when she catches the eye of the local lord. Rose’s new anger grows inside her, but she is careful not to let it show. Things are hard for her family that winter, since the blacksmith demands reparations. Instead, she hides it in the corner, under a bag of wrinkled potatoes. ![]() She does not swallow her anger, or smash it and scatter the pieces. Rose stares down at the rock in her hand, at the blood drying beneath her fingernails. Her mother locks her in the storage shed. “You must be a good girl,” her mother whispers. For an instant, Rose can see her mother’s anger, pressing out above the collar of her dress. After a long moment, her mother presses it into Rose’s hand. It is smooth and gray, like the river rocks. Later, her mother pulls the anger out of Rose’s chest and stares at it. She screams and rakes her nails across his face. The blacksmith’s son smirks at her, waiting for her to swallow it down like she knows a good girl should. ![]() Her anger forms a hard lump in her throat. Her dress is cold and wet against her skin as she drags herself out of the water. She lands badly, rocks scraping her knees, tearing her palms. ![]() Rose is ten when the blacksmith’s son pushes her into the river. ![]()
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