My earliest memory isn't one of fire and falling, of pain and fear and sorrow too great for a child. That's what people believe it is. That's what I tell them it is when Aba has me speak to small, trusted bands of slaves to encourage them. But that's a lie. It's one of my memories-a strong one that weaves itself into my nightmares, forcing me awake drenched in sweat and tears. But when I soothe myself back to sleep, I remember my earliest memory...