Taking the toolbox from the cleaning cupboard, Kate stepped outside for the first time in hours. She squinted in the afternoon sun.

From the strawberry patch on the far side of the garden, Tilly looked up. Swiping the back of her gloved hand between her brow and Sister Ruth’s straw hat, she smiled. Kate bit her lip. She waved back.

On the field, Emma and Grace were kicking a ball around with Lockie, shouting calls to each other that were loud enough to be heard from Mornington. “Hey, you two!” Kate whisper-called. “Sister Mary Monica’s class is still in confession, how about you lower your voices!”

“Sorry!”

Kate squinted at the far end of the field—Jeremy Nguyen, the PDHPE teacher—was with the rest of the class at the high jump mats. “Why aren’t you doing high jump with Mr Nguyen?”

“Can’t do high jump today,” Grace called out. “I think I injured my coccyx.”

Kate rolled her eyes.

As the arched chapel door shut behind Kate, the girls seated in the pews waiting to go into the confessional looked over their shoulders. Even the two at the altar kneelers swivelled. Kate dipped her fingertips into holy water and blessed herself, shot them all a look. Immediately, they returned their attention to the altar.

Kate started down the centre aisle, her sinuses tingling. Christ, the sisters were using enough incense to scent the Vatican. St. Joan of Arc was the size of a shoebox—and that was its charm.

In the left sector of the pews, Lexi was seated with another Year Ten student. Kate approached, bristling as she watched Lexi’s lips move in deep conversation. Kate tapped her on the shoulder. Lexi swivelled. “Where’s the broken kneeler?” Kate asked coolly.

Lexi looked up at Kate through her lashes. “It’s the same one as last time.”

Rolling her eyes, Kate continued down the aisle. Why did Lexi have to push the limit with everything?

She sat the toolbox down at the end of the pew and got down on all fours, straddling the broken kneeler. She pushed her glasses to the top of her head and looked into the dark void beneath the seat. The screw connecting the kneeler to the pew was halfway out. Sister Caroline had repaired it last time, but her poor eyesight and arthritis had obviously been an impediment.

Even down in the depths of the pews, she could still hear Lexi a few pews behind, chattering away at a mile a minute.

“Alexandra!” Sister Ruth berated. “Quiet. Please.”

“Sorry, Reverend Mother.”

“Father Rodney didn’t have to come all the way back to Lords for a second time today after giving mass to us this morning, but he did—for you girls. Father Rodney isn’t even our local priest, and yet, twice in one day, he’s driven the causeway back and forth to save Father Peter the trouble of leaving St. Gerard’s to catch the ferry from Mornington. The least you can do is keep quiet for half an hour!”