CHAPTER 2

The days after Father Rossi’s arrival settled into a new rhythm, one I hadn’t anticipated. The convent continues its quiet turning prayers, chores, meals in silence but now there is an undercurrent, a subtle vibration that hums beneath every task. His presence changes the light in the chapel, makes the stone walls feel closer, the air thicker. I tell myself it is imagination. I tell myself to focus on God.

But God feels distant this week.

On Monday morning Mother Superior summons me to her small office after terce. The room smells of old books and lavender, her desk neat as a soldier’s kit. She regards me over...