Kate shook her head.

Lexi crossed her arms as she stared down into the garden. “She sure looks like one.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Emma scoffed. “Novices wear habits.”

“Not all novices,” Lexi said. “St. Joan’s is, like, one of the last convents to let go of the habit.”

“Yeah, exactly—if she was a novice here, she’d be wearing one, wouldn’t she?”

“Not necessarily. She could still be a novice and just be doing her own thing.”

“You’re literally contradicting yourself.”

Kate sighed. “For God’s sake, she’s not a bloody novice!” she muttered as she left the room.

She wandered down the hall to the north wing. She rapped lightly at the open door of the second bedroom. “Hi, Cassie.”

The petite brunette looked up from her phone. “Oh, hi,” she said despondently.

“You’re not unpacking?” Kate leaned against the doorjamb.

Cassie’s mouth twisted. She dropped her gaze and picked at a loose thread on her bedspread. Kate chewed at her bottom lip. If there was one thing that made her feel out of her depth as a housemother at St. Joan of Arc, it was homesick kids. Cynthia, the religion and history teacher Tilly was filling in for, had always taken care of that. Although Cynthia hadn’t been employed as a housemother, with her suite inside the boarding house, she’d always been a great support—and considering the fact that Cynthia was the only person who lived at St. Joan’s other than the sisters, she also happened to be the only member of staff Kate was out to.

“I see you’ve got some new posters. What are they?” Kate tried.

“P!NK…” Cassie hesitated. “And, uhh, Zac Efron. When does Mia get here?”

“She’s coming in this afternoon on the ferry.” Kate had been pleased that Cassie and her roommate, also in Year Seven, had become good friends.

Cassie cracked a smile. Laughter danced down the hall from the west wing. Even Molly’s cackle was loud. Kate couldn’t imagine the raucous noise that Grace’s arrival would bring later that day when she moved back into the west wing. Kate had never come across a person so at odds with her name.

Kate smiled. “Maybe a couple of the older girls can come in later and help you hang your posters before Mia gets here.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to bother them.”

“Trust me,” Kate chuckled. “They have absolutely nothing better to do. And later tonight, I think they’re watching Stranger Things down in the lounge. That’s the latest fad. You should go down and watch it with them.”

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “Is it okay if I take a nap now? Before everyone gets here?”

The poor thing probably hadn’t slept a wink the night before. “Of course, you can. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

Cassie nodded.

With a smile, Kate closed the door behind her.

On her way back to the west wing to ask the older girls to keep an eye on Cassie, Kate stopped by a few of the dorms to let the southerly breeze through. As she lifted the windows, the draught teased the edges of posters, lifted single sheets of classwork abandoned on desks. In Hannah Simpson’s room, Kate tore a Post-it from the top of a pad, scribbled Excuse me, Ms Hannah, I told you to fill this out for holiday homework! Caught red-handed!, and placed the Post-it and uncompleted sheet atop the thirteen-year-old’s pillow.