The two voices had been so similar. One had come from a woman’s—an angel’s?—mouth, while the other had echoed like the ocean, but there was a familiar note in both. A note that seemed to come from a different world.

Otherwise, she couldn’t recall exactly what the voices sounded like. Everything had been so confusing, and that was before you factored in the head injury. It was all fuzzy. She probably wouldn’t even recognize the voices if she heard them again. She could only remember how they’d made her feel.

If only she could see her rescuer again and get some answers—or at least figure out what the right questions were. She’d spent a year longing for that with every fiber of her being, more than she longed for grace and peace.

More, perhaps, than she longed for God.

Beneath the covers, she shivered as if caught in the grip of a mighty wind.

The truth wouldn’t be denied anymore. Madeleine did not long for God more than she longed for anything else in the world. She’d vowed that she did, and she had lied. She’d lied in a sacred place, about a sacred thing. She was no exemplar of moral behavior for her students. She was a fraud.

The shivering got worse. She pressed her lips hard together to stop a whimper. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. But it was happening. It was real. And something else was real too.

She didn’t belong here, with her sisters who trusted her without knowing her. She’d never be able to hold their hands in the simplicity of faith, like Mother Gertrude had held Sister Catherine’s hand. Nor could she earn their unquestioning obedience, not when she didn’t even want what she was selling.

She wanted answers. After years of living a lie, she wanted the truth. And heaven help her, she wouldn’t find either of those inside convent walls.

But it would be difficult to seek them outside as well. When she’d taken her permanent vows, she’d surrendered her material possessions to the Church. She received a small salary as a teacher, but that went right back into Sacred Heart’s coffers. She could get a job at a public school easily enough, but it would take time to get on her feet and set aside money to travel, especially because she had limited relationships outside the Church.

And she had no family to help her, either. No mother or father or brother. They were all gone.

She’d be so alone. She’d sacrifice everything for answers that might never come. Was she ridiculous for even thinking about this? Now that she knew how sinful she really was, if she just repented and tried to love God as much as she should—might that not be enough?