“What is it?” She’d sounded too sharp. “I’m sorry. What is it, Sister?”

“Sister Catherine wants to see you,” Bridget said, her voice meek with deference to a senior sister.

Madeleine rose to her feet at once. “Is she in the garden?” That seemed likely. It was the hour for recreation, a rare moment when nuns had time to do what they wanted—hence Madeleine reading about angels where nobody would bother her. The garden was Sister Catherine’s favorite place to rest. Madeleine loved it too, a place where things of both use and beauty grew.

To her surprise, Bridget said, “Sister Catherine’s in her office.” She lowered her voice. “There’s someone else there too. I’m sworn not to say who.”

Madeleine stared at her.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to mention it at all,” Bridget said sheepishly. “But I wanted to give you some warning.”

“Warning?” That sounded ominous, to say the least.

“Oh, just that she’s, um, not alone? I’m sure it’s nothing bad? It’s probably⁠—”

“Thank you, Sister.” Madeleine brushed her skirt down. “I’ll be on my way.”

She took deep, steadying breaths as she proceeded alone to Sister Catherine’s office. Even at thirty-six, it was hard not to be apprehensive about going to see the principal. Especially given where Madeleine’s head had been recently: all those doubts, those worries, those…unholy thoughts. Sister Bridget had long, slender hands.

Soon, she was knocking on the imposing wooden door with a brass placard that read: “SUPERIOR.”

“Come in,” Sister Catherine called from the other side.

Madeleine entered the familiar space, a bit fancier than most of Sacred Heart, with beautiful wood paneling, an impressive carved wooden desk with a matching chair, and a stained glass window depicting the Virgin and Child. As usual, Sister Catherine sat behind the desk with her hands folded in front of her and a calm look on her face.

More unusually, another nun stood by the window with her back turned, gazing at the brightly colored panes.

Madeleine closed the door. The other nun turned, and Madeleine gasped to see who it was. She lowered her head immediately.

Footsteps approached her. A hand appeared before her face. Madeleine took it and kissed its ring of office: a garnet set in a band of silver.

“Sister Madeleine,” said Mother Gertrude warmly, and she took Madeleine’s hand in both of her own.

Madeleine looked at the Superior General of the Daughters of Grace. Mother Gertrude was in her mid-sixties and, years ago, had overseen Madeleine’s own novitiate. Those had not been easy years, but Gertrude was a kind and steady leader. When Madeleine had taken her temporary vows and left the convent to serve elsewhere, Gertrude had told her she “showed great promise” and invited her to keep in touch. Madeleine had.