The four novices were led to a changing room, whether they entered one at a time. Tara was first, walking in to find a bulky brown robe, a white garment to wear wrapped around the head, and a brown hood.

Tara was quick about changing.  She had made a point of leaving behind the objects which would have mattered most to her, least they get questions such as weapons and even her beloved ring.  That had been the hardest thing to part with, but she knew an engagement ring had no place in a nunnery and she feared that the nuns might expect her to give it up as part of vows of poverty or a show of her devotion to the order over her old life.  She felt somewhat naked without it, and then truly alien in her new ‘clothes’ if they could be called that.  Still, she tried to ignore any strangeness about it all, confident that this was the path forward and the way to help Oriana.

It was strange for Tara to see herself in a habit- but it was stranger still to see Oriana and Jo in one. When they were all dressed, Sister Felicity handed each woman a piece of paper.

“The daily schedule. You may have this for a week as you commit it to memory. Tardiness is not permitted.”

• 5:15 - Rise, bath.
• 6:00 - Angelus in the choir. Then mental prayer for the remainder of the hour.
• 7:00 - Lauds, morning prayer. 
• 7:30 - Morning Mass. After mass, all give thanks, followed by midmorning prayer.
• 9:30-11:15 - Manual Labor.
• 11:30 - Sext (midday prayer), dinner. After dinner, clean  up and recreation.
• 1:30 - Midafternoon prayer, followed by an hour of mental prayer.
• 2:15-3:30 - Manual Labor
• 3:30 - Spiritual Reading
• 4 - Rosary 
• 4:30 - Vespers (evening prayer), followed by one hour of mental prayer
• 5:30 -  Supper, followed by cleanup and recreation.
• 7:30 - Compline (night prayer). Blessing by the Abbess.
• Strict silence after Compline.  You must be in your cell by 9:30 PM.

Tara heard Jo audibly inhale. 

The women were led to their cells as Felicity continued to speak. “For this one day, you are exempt from following the allotted program. Tonight you will join us for supper, where we will have our introductions. My recommendation would be to get accustomed with your cells and with each other.”

Tara almost hated the idea of them letting them have such freedom.  It meant a lot more acting on her part than she was comfortable with.  Being near Oriana but not able to act as anything more than strangers would be - tough.  Yes, that was putting it very lightly. Getting acquainted with her lie, well that would be odd too.  Of course, what sort of person wouldn’t be curious about the other girls who she came in with? There was really no avoiding it.  She was going to have to interact with the others.  

Each bedroom, apparently called a cell, was six feet by nine feet with spartan furnishings. There was a bed, a table with a bible, a chair, a basin for bathing, soap, and a cross.

Tara found herself oddly comfortable with the cell.  It reminded her of the room she had in the old cabin in Newfoundland.  It was simple. It was quiet. Well, maybe that wasn’t always how her room had been in Canada.  At times though, in those wonderful moments when the rest of the family had strayed out into the woods to do this or that and she remained behind with her books.  It was oddly comforting here and Tara knew that the room would feel like a refuge from this endeavor which she and her companions had embarked upon.

Their four rooms were all on the same hallway, although they alternated with already occupied rooms.  After taking a little time in her room to get to know it’s layout and it’s every nook and cranny, Tara found herself peeking out into the hallway, wondering if the other girls had settled in as quickly or if she hadn’t spent enough time in her room to be convincing as a new novice.

Ori had stuck her head out as well, and she wore a familiar grin despite her strange attire. She was about to say something some Tara when she closed her mouth abruptly, remembering that she wasn’t supposed to know her.

“Where did you come up with the name Nicarete?”  she asked politely as if it were the first time she’d spoken to the other woman - or as close an approximation as Tara could force herself to have.

“It’s a saint whose name sounds like my mother’s,” said Ori. “I wanted to remember her while I was here.”

Tara nodded.  “A lovely gesture.  I’ll have to make a note to read more about that Saint.  I wasn’t aware of her before.”

“Thank you. I thought so, too. Why did you choose Ruth, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ori spoke politely, even demurely, seeming like she’d just walked in from a simple country life. Jo and Mary emerged to join the group as well.

“Ruth is very devoted to her family.  She was a strong woman, her compassion was admirable, and her kindness is something I like to think my father would have wished for me to exemplify.  I suppose we both chose to honor our parents in being here.  Though, if I honored my mother, I might have chosen Deborah instead.”  She chuckled.  “My mother was different kind of strong than my father, I think.  It’s good to meet you, Nicarete.”

“And you, Ruth. I’m so pleased to have company; I’m not sure if I could do this alone.”

Mary nodded vigorously. “Thank God for the three of you. I was so nervous today.”

Tara turned towards Mary and smiled.  “You looked the most confident of all of us.  I’m surprised to hear you had any nerves at all, Mary.  I thought that if I could have chosen the courage of any of us, that yours was who I aspired towards.”

“Courage? I was scared stiff, I think.”

Tara laughed, “What were you scared of?  Did you think they would send you away before you even had a chance?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. This has been my plan for years now; it was scary to think of them jut saying no.”

“Well, they didn’t.  You’re here.”

“I am. And it’s nice to meet all of you, Ruth, Nicarete, and…” she looked at Jo, who seemed to have to think for a moment.

“Joan! Joan. My name is Joan now,” nodded Jo. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous, too.”

Tara smiled at Jo. “It’s okay, Joan.  I’m sure we’ll all find our footing here soon enough.  Happily we have a few hours to get to know the place and each other.”

The door opened at the end of the hall, and a handsome young woman of about Tara’s age walked through. 

“Welcome, all. My name is Bianca. Have you made your introductions to each other?”

Tara nodded, “Hello Bianca.  I’m Ruth. This Nicarete, Joan, and Mary.  We were just getting to know one another.”

Bianca nodded. “Welcome. I’ll leave you time for that, of course, but the Abbess asked me to give you a brief tour of the grounds first.

Tara slipped out into the hallway and pulled her door closed behind her, happy to follow the older novice on a tour and trying her best not to let her eyes linger on her companions, consequently she found herself looking a lot more at Mary so not to give the impression of any outside connection to Jo or Oriana.

“The building we just left is the dormitory. It is attached directly to the Church, allowing us to easily enter for our prayers and Mass. While the villagers use the Church on the Sabbath, it is largely locked for our private use. The silence after Compline is strictly enforced; I would encourage not to test that. Like I did,” Bianca added with a sigh and a smile. 

Tara couldn’t help but glance at Jo when Bianca mentioned the silence after compline.  Of all of them, she worried Jo would mess up the most. She couldn’t say why for sure, maybe it was confidence in Ori’s ability to carry out a mission and her ability to follow rules… but Jo?  She seemed destined to get herself into some trouble or another here. It just felt as though that would be the case.

“To our right is the medical building, always locked. Villagers will come there for medical attention; we always have at least one sister and one novice on duty there. Healing the sick is our only contact with the outside world- the rest of our time is spent in prayer and contemplation.”

“The other building is the dining hall. We eat communally; speaking is permitted during meals when we’re eating, though not too loudly. Behind the dining hall is what we call “the grounds”; it’s where we grow our vegetables- behind the fields is a small forest of olive trees, very popular for walks and meditation. And… that is the tour.” finished Bianca.

Tara smiled at the idea of trees.  Surely they would be nothing like the trees of home, but at least it was something.  Maybe being here wasn’t going to be such a hardship after all. Prayer, quiet times, walks among trees… just what the doctor ordered, perhaps.  Oh, sure, not Iceland - but a nice time away from the real world she lived every other day inside.

“Do any of you have any questions?”

“How many other women are here?” asked Nicarete.

“Not as many as you may think,” responded Bianca. “A dozen or so. We usually have more, but we recently sent a dozen sisters to begin a new community in America.”

This news was like a punch to her gut.  If Ori’s mother wasn’t here… if they’d come all this way and gone through all of this just to find out she wasn’t even here?  Her eyes drifted to Oriana.

“Oh,” responded Nicarete with interest. “How did they decide who would leave and who would stay?”

“Volunteer basis, mostly,” said Bianca. “It was… the younger sisters, mostly. It’s one of the reasons I’m so glad to see all of you. The older sisters are wonderful, but it’s nice to have some people of one’s own age.”

Tara breathed a sigh of relief.  Perhaps this meant that Ori’s mother was still here.  “Have you been here very long then, Bianca?”

“Just two months. I’m the newest novice, prior to your arrival. At least the newest novice who remained here; oftentimes, potential novices are sent to other communities.  In fact, this is my one and only tour. The next time a novice arrives, you’ll be giving it yourself.”

Tara smiled at Mary, who she suspected would feel that sort of thing was an honor to eagerly anticipate.  She was happy for the girl for whom being here was a hope and a dream.

“Are there any other questions?” asked Bianca.

“I have another question, perhaps a bit unorthodox.  What is something you discovered about this place that you found to be a pleasant surprise after arriving?  Anything unexpected that you were happy to learn?  Something maybe you didn’t know about this life?”

“I… think it’s probably the routine. I thought it would be a burden to have to get used to it, but I can’t imagine my life without it now. Knowing almost exactly what I’ll be doing every day has freed my mind- freed my soul. And in our time for recreation, we can still pursue individual pursuits, so long as they’re quiet and saintly. I’ve probably read more books in the last two months than I have in the previous two decades.”

Tara nodded.  She wasn’t quite sure what the girl would say, but it seemed like the sort of question that might open a door or two.  “I can imagine that’s very enjoyable.  It’s been a while since I sat down and read a good book cover to cover.  You’ll have to make some recommendations to me.”

Bianca beamed. “Of course.” 

"Will we have a chance to get to know the other sisters, or will they be occupied today?”  Tara asked. “I am excited to become acquainted with all parts of this new life.”

“They’ll be introduced to you tonight briefly. Mostly, you’ll get to know them during your work. You’ll be assigned various tasks with the younger sisters, such as cleaning, tending the field, serving in the medical building, performing in the choir, and cooking. There is an older sister who specializes in each of these areas.

Tara nodded.  “That makes sense.  Will the Abbess be asking us about our interests or talents to determine where we might be of best help or is this a trial and error sort of thing where we’ll be rotated through many things?”

Bianca smiled. “Just trial- no error. We all serve in all ways. If you show particular aptitude in one area, your presence might be requested by the senior sister in question more often, but each of us still serve in each area, lest those who sing or cook lose their humility.”

Tara blushed.  “Of course.”

With no other questions, Bianca led the women back to the dormitories. Mary professed a desire for a nap, and the other women were happy to agree. It wasn’t long before Bianca returned and led them into a dining hall, where they stood in front of a dozen other sisters. Tara looked out at them with a feverish curiosity, hoping to see an aged version of Oriana, but it wasn’t the case. There were five women who seemed to be a possibility based on their age: they were introduced as Isabel, Matilda, Catherine, Rose, and Monica. Isabel oversaw the novices in their daily cleaning and upkeep of the convent. Matilda oversaw the gardening and cared for the grounds. Isabel and Matilda seemed to be on the older side of the age range. It was possible, but not likely; by the end of the evening, Tara had narrowed her chief suspects down to three: Catherine, the attractive, faintly stout woman who served as the cook; Rose, a strikingly beautiful woman who looked most like Oriana, who led the choir; and Monica, a woman who could have been Roses’s little sister, who oversaw the medical building.

The novices received warm welcomes from the senior sisters, as well as the half dozen women who seemed to be in their upper twenties and thirties that Tara had discounted as being their target. There was also, of course, Abbess Teresa and her senior sister assistants of Felicity and Perpetua.

After a warm meal, the novices were excused and returned to their cells for an early night, where they all enjoyed a well earned rest- especially since three of them were still suffering from the time change.

As the Abbess explained “Dawn comes early, and you will truly begin your life with us tomorrow with the rising of the sun.” 

***

That, however, was a lie: Tara was up before the sun as Sister Felicity walked through the hall ringing a large bell. Wearily, Tara grabbed the large basin under her bed and followed the other novices out to fill it with water. They each gave themselves a sponge-bath with cool water and soap, then filed out in a line toward the church, listening to the church bell ring six times. They entered the pews and looked up at the candlelit altar. It was… silent. Peaceful. 

The voice of the Abbess was soft, and the sisters and novices responded as well- at least those who knew the prayer.

“Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariæ,” began the Abbess.

“Et concepit de Spiritu Sancto.”

All voices spoke up as they prayed,“Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.  Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostræ. Amen.” Mary, who hadn’t known the previous words, looked a bit more confident.

“Ecce ancilla Domini.” continued the Abbess.

“Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum,” responded the sisters, before they all prayed again.“Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.  Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostræ. Amen.”

“Et Verbum caro factum est,” recited the Abbess.

“Et habitavit in nobis. Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. * Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostræ. Amen.

The Abbess continued, “Ora pro nobis, Sancta Dei Genetrix.”

“Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi,” responded the community.

“Oremus. Gratiam tuam, quæsumus, Domine, mentibus nostris infunde; ut qui, Angelo nuntiante, Christi Filii tui incarnationem cognovimus, per passionem eius et Crucem ad resurrectionis gloriam perducamur. Per eundem Christum Dominum nostrum.”

“Amen.”

When the Angelus had concluded, the sisters each sat down in one of the pews and bowed their heads. This would be the mental prayer, then, for the remainder of the hour. Time to pray- and time to think.

Tara had not had so much quiet in a long while.  Not since Iceland, really, and even then she felt free to speak.  Here, she was holding on to a different sort of illusion and Bianca was right.  In routine and tradition there was a security to be had, in the softly spoken prayers, Tara found her mind wandering back to the quiet mornings in the woods.  The church of her heart - a religion that was not of stained glass and stone buildings, but a true communion with God and nature. The echoes of a love for the divine which her father had taught her, were here.  In this place she could feel Billy’s gentle, strong presence, as if she might look over her shoulder at any moment and see him smiling at her. He’d smile because she was feeling the presence of the Lord, but also because she had come to help heal Oriana’s heart.  

Billy might have been a fearsome gangster, but he was also one of the most tender beings that Tara had ever known.  Her mother had aptly named him as a Bull. He could be so understanding of the wicked world around him, wandering through it without a mind to anything but what he was there to do… and, of course, he was powerful  If roused to anger, Billy was a force to be reckoned with. Still, to Tara, he would always be that man whose knee she sat upon at the old stump. The one with stories and prayers. The man who always had a smile, no matter how confused or angry she was.  Billy. Dad. She would never see that smile again - not unless the God he’d taught her to follow really was listening to her prayers. Unless Heaven… or Hell, was real and she was bound for it.

It was a strange thing to want.  As a murderer, unrepentant lust-filled creature who violated law after law in the Holy Book, Tara should want nothing more than God to be a lie.  It would be easier than facing the wrath of a God who would send her to a lake of fire and a merciless devil who would make her pay one day for all she took here on Earth.  And yet, if there was no God and no Hell, she really had seen them for the last time. And more than any torture she might suffer, that thought chilled her to her bones.

The hour of mental prayer went by much faster than Tara had anticipated. She spared a glance around her. Ori and Mary had their heads bowed, obviously praying, but Jo seemed tilted slightly to starboard as she struggled to stay awake. As the Abbess rose, Tara watched Ori’s arm sneak around Mary and shoot out to poke Jo in the side.

Tara smiled at Oriana’s watchful eyes.  Those gray eyes which saw everything and was once again keeping vigil over a group of women - even here, even as she had come for something of her own.  It was one of the many reasons that Tara loved her.

The Abbess moved to the front of the church. “For our novices, at Lauds we read four psalms. I read the first one, then the other three alternate between all sisters. We will begin with Psalm 46.” The sisters all reached forward to open their Bibles and read along as the Abbess read. When she had finished, Sisters Felicity, Perpetua, and Rose read Psalms 148, 149, and 150. 

Tara listened to the Psalmist call for God to be praised, but her ears lingered on the promises that God called men to take up arms and he promised them victory.  He urged them to sing and her mind drifted to not to her dead parents but to the woman just a short distance from her - Oriana.  Her voice, those songs she sang - songs she’d learned from a nun.  

Her mother had given her to a nunnery.  To Oriana’s mind that had meant she’d been cast away, and yet, had really?  Did Oriana not talk of a nun whom she loved dearly, a nun who clearly shared with her secular songs and mended wounds for her long after she was no longer required to do so.  A woman who had shown her tenderness the same way Billy had shown Tara.  

Tara’s eyes drifted to Oriana.  She could understand her feelings of disconnect, maybe even anger at all she’d been forced to endure in life with Francesco and the program, and yet from the detached place she sat now - Tara could see things that Oriana could not.  She could see love, sisterhood, a mother…  Ori had these things, even if they did not take the traditional form that she herself had been blessed with.

God had provided for Ori.  Her mother, her birth mother, had provided and given her into loving arms.  While Ori might not yet know her mother’s face, the woman had once looked upon her with love, of that Tara was sure.  The question now was, would Oriana ever see it that way.  Would meeting this woman bring Ori peace and a knowledge that she had not been a burden, or mistake, or unwanted… that she had a place in the world?  

Tara looked to Jo who was now awake because of Ori’s ‘gentle ministrations.’  Would she know that she had a family and an identity regardless of the outcome here?  Would she ever understand that her true mother was the woman who taught her to pray and sing and laugh?  That her real sisters had been those girls with whom she faced all manner of horrors in Francesco’s program - just as she herself now stood with Brigitte ready to face whatever came next?  

Tara prayed for that, in her mind she recited the 147th Psalm, the one which the nuns had avoided … perhaps pointedly.  A promise that God would heal the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  Her wounds.  Ori’s wounds.  Jo’s wounds.  Brigitte’s wounds.  Gavin’s wounds.  Malcolm’s wounds.  Izzy… Jack.  Cerise.  Sage.  Victoria.

Heal us, oh Lord, your broken-hearted soldato.  Let us find we have family around us still.  Let us know we have a place where we are useful and needed, wanted.  Come into our hearts and remind us that though we sometimes walk without the company of those we wish for most, we are never alone.  Let me find the strength to lead this family as you and my father thought I could.  Make me strong.  Give me my mother’s will to survive and grandmother’s gift of words.  Give me my grandfather’s courage and my father’s unfailing heart.  Let me walk with confidence and lead them as you would have them go.  Help me to build up Oriana and be to her a balm upon her soul.  To be a good partner and companion in all ways. Always.  Amen.

After the morning prayer, the sisters welcome Father Crea as he conducted the mass- in latin, of course. Tara followed along best, though Ori either understood it or faked it; Mary seemed lost but eager to learn, whereas Jo just seemed lost. The redhead stifled a yawn on multiple occasions.

When the mass was finished and they all shared in the Eucharist, the midmorning prayer seemed to take no time at all. As they concluded with a hymn, Tara noticed a few of the sisters pay special attention to Oriana- particularly Sister Rose, who lead the sisters in song.

When the hymn slowly faded to silence in the stone church, The Abbess assigned each novice her task for the day. Mary would be working with Sister Catherine, the cook. Jo, fortunately, would be working with Sister Monica in the medical building. Tara would be cleaning with Sister Isabel, whereas Oriana would be working in the fields with Sister Matilda. Unable to speak to each other, the novices filed out for their assigned manual labor.

The morning passed quickly for Tara. She spent nearly two hours sweeping the corridors and wiping the tables down for the upcoming meal. As she cleaned, she found herself entering a sort of trance and time passed quickly; when they were finished, she had a few moments to speak to Isabel. She was an older woman, seemingly in her 50s or 60s, built with a sturdiness that she occasionally labored under when she had to reach down to pick something up from the floor. Still, the older woman was spry enough and focused; she’d forced Tara to re-do several tables or windows when they didn’t meet her standards. 

But as she wiped her face, she offered Tara a small smile. “I don’t mean to frustrate you, by sending you back to do things a second time. But it’s easier to frustrate you a little now than spend the next three years wishing I had pointed something out years ago, if you understand me.”

“I do, Sister.”  She said with a smile.  “I’d rather learn how to do something the right way than have to be told repeatedly that I’m wrong later.  Besides, hard work never really bothered me. I’m quite used to doing chores and I enjoy them.”

“A good attitude. Let’s hope your other novices share it. Have you had much of a chance to speak to them yet?”

“I spoke briefly with them.  Mary. Joan. Nicarete. They are all very friendly.  I look forward to hearing about how their days went when we sit down for dinner tonight.  I’m told we can talk at dinner if we do so quietly.” She hesitated. She didn’t want to push the nun for information, or rather she feared the woman would see right through her if she did, but Oriana needed to find her mother.

“You’ve heard rightly. In the past, other abbesses have insisted on silence during mealtimes, but our midday meal is the largest of the day; Abbess Teresa insists that those gathered in a community should be able to talk, so long as they aren’t disruptive.”

Tara smiled, “The abbess seems like a very kind-hearted woman.  Have you been here at this convent long?”

“Since I was your age,” Isabel nodded. 

“Is it impolite to ask a Sister about her circumstances in coming here?”  She arched an eyebrow.  “I don’t want to make people feel bad or make a fool of myself - but I certainly have a lot on my mind as you might expect.”

“A wise question. Many novices simply ask. It is… not impolite to ask. But it is also not impolite in the slightest to refuse. Many choose to leave their past behind them, and they have the right to do so, having committed their lives to God.”

“Are you the sort of person who has left your old life behind then?  Or do you find it acceptable to talk about your past?  I would never wish for you to feel pressured to do so, but I’m curious and as I said, have more than a few things on my mind.  In the past, I’ve found that the stories of others' lives has helped me navigate my own.  If that makes sense?”

“Ah, well you’ll find many of the sisters- not many, some perhaps- have found it hard to leave gossip behind. As for me, I was the daughter of a merchant. He had 11 children, and when he grew ill there was simply no way for us to support ourselves. I had always considered the Church, and that reality made my decision for me.”

“I have many brothers and sisters as well.”  She said softly.  “My parents loved each other a great deal.”

“Had, Ruth. While they live on in your heart, and your prayers for them can sustain you, it’s best to think only of your sisters now.”
 

Tara nodded slowly.  “I hadn’t thought much about that, like you, I think on some level I believe being here is a boon to them as much as myself.  But, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I begin to change how I speak so that my heart and mind can be focused on what I’m here for.”

Isabel nodded.

“By some amazing coincidence, there were eleven of us before my parents passed.  Malcolm isn’t my parent’s child - he’s actually my cousin but after his parents died mine took him in.  With him, the new baby, and the four girls my parents took into their home that made eleven of us.

“Malcolm is a strange name for an Italian boy. Did he come from outside the country? Or have foreign parents?”

“My grandfather on my mother’s side is of Irish background.  Malcolm is a family name.” she smiled.

“Ah, God bless the Irish.” Isabel blessed herself, but it wasn’t clear if she was blessing herself to save herself from the Irish or to save them from their inevitable fates.

Tara chuckled, “I believe that was probably my Great-Grandfather Salvatore’s reaction when he realized my grandmother had fallen in love with a man of Irish blood.  Nona Bella was stubborn though. Luciano to her bones. Once her mind was made up… that was probably the end of it.” Tara’s smile touched her eyes. “They… used to say that I was like her in some regards.  Talkative. Always trying to fix things… meddling. I try not to. I do. But I admit I like to help people when I can.”

“Your life now is the opposite of meddling, Ruth. From our world here, we pray for the world- but these intercessions are our only actions on its behalf. There are some who serve the world with their hands- we do so with our prayer.”

“What of the healing we do here?  Is that not a form of intercession?  Healing the bodies of the sick and injured?”  Tara cocked her head to the side.

Isabel frowned for a moment. “You’re right, of course. I, however, have not engaged in healing in many years, since I accepted the charge of cleanliness of our spaces. I would also recommend not taking a similar tone with some of the other senior sisters. They don’t appreciate being talked back to, even when they’re wrong- especially when they’re wrong.”

Tara nodded.  “I think prayer is a healing of spirit the way the women in the infirmary heal with their hands.  Talking, and listening - mostly listening, is a healing of the heart. At least, that’s how I’ve always seen it before.  I suppose it’s the sort of thing I should pray about. Listen to God more about it. Talk less.” She smirked. “Thank you for your warning about my tone.  I will endeavor to keep my opinions mostly to myself and make an effort to be meek when I feel I must share them.” 

“You’ll learn what you can say to which person in time, of course. But I recommend caution early. It’s one thing to offend someone in the wide world of millions; it’s another to offend one of the half dozen people you’ll be spending the next fifty years with. First impressions…” She rose to her feet, gesturing for Tara to follow her. 

Tara rose up as well.

“You did good work today, Ruth. Don’t become like some of these other sisters, who think that polish a window is somehow beneath them.”

“Windows of a home are its eyes upon the world.  I like to keep our eyes bright and clear that we can enjoy what God has made.”  She smiled and inclined her head to the sister.

“Well spoken…” she glanced at Tara. “Are you well-read, Ruth? Educated?”

Tara brightened, “I love reading.  And yes, I have some education. First my mother, she was my best teacher of course - but later traditional schooling.  I’ve read a great deal and speak several languages. My Aunt she was a polyglot. Very gifted. I do not possess her quick wit, but I have aspirations to learn all I can.  The bible is just one of the many books I spent time reading as a girl.”

Isabel nodded and opened the door to the chapel, where they stood next to each other for a brief midday prayer before exiting back to the small dining hall. A single, long table that Tara had recently cleaned dominated the room. Mary was helping Sister Catherine prepare the meal: it looked like a fish stew with freshly chopped vegetables.

The sisters lined up and their bowls were filled with the stew. The new novices sat together, joined by Bianca near the end of the table; either generally or precisely, it seemed that the older sisters sat near the head of the table by the Abbess, whereas the novices were down the end.

“Thank you for your company and sharing your wisdom with me today, Sister Isabel.”  Tara said before parting ways with her.

Isabel nodded and smiled at Tara as she took her place in the table.

Tara slid in next to Jo, who was in the process of raising her spoon to her mouth.

Tara kicked Jo under the table and mouthed the words, ‘Grace.’

Jo had nearly dropped her spoon, but she nodded and mouthed “thanks” at Tara.

Ori sat across from Tara and next to Mary. Tara found it hard to look away from Oriana, due to the strangeness. Her head seemed to be floating above the billowing robes, as it was the only part of her that was visible. They all looked like that of course, but...

Sitting across from Ori, Tara found herself taken with a memory of her parents.  Carefully, silent as she could, Tara moved her foot along side of Ori’s under the table in the same way her parents always did.  Touching. Not moving. Meeting her lover’s eyes only briefly and allowing a hint of a smile to appear before turning her eyes towards the Abbess without a word or explanation as if she’d done nothing at all.

The Abbess cleared her throat. “Bless us, O Lord, for these thy gifts which we receive from thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.”  Tara intoned and then she allowed herself a deep inhalation of the steam rising from the stew. Her stomach growled softly and she stifled a chuckle.  She hadn’t thought much about how gluttonous she’d become since moving to New York. Her parent’s wealth had allowed to eat whenever she pleased and however much she had wanted.  Here there was a schedule to stick to and certainly there would only be enough for everyone to have sensible portions. Gavin would have hated it.

Bianca smiled at the four newcomers. “Another reason people are always excited to see novices is an extra serving of fish. Usually we only have it twice a week.”

“It seems amazing.”  Tara said softly. “Mary did you get to do much with it?”

“I... “ Mary seemed much more subdued. “I mostly just cleaned things. I made a few mistakes. Almost ruined everything.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.  Just take a breath and try not to dwell on it.  What’s done is done. And… tomorrow will be a new day.  Not everyone is whiz-bang in the kitchen after all.” she chuckled.  “Maybe you’ll do better at something else.”

Mary nodded, unconvinced. 

“You were probably better than me at… farming.” said Ori. “I almost killed a pumpkin.”

Jo laughed, which drew a glance from the older sisters. She immediately quieted herself and focused on her stew. 

Tara tried to hide her smile with her hand. “You know,”  she continued to Mary. “They seemed quite curious about why all four of us showed up at the same time together.  If we all had done superb at our tasks today they might really have had questions about us then. It’s probably best we messed up a bit today.  I mean… I think I got lucky that Sister Isabel appreciates my understanding of the importance of her position. Had I not expressed that, well, I am sure that my verbal offenses would have landed me in hot water.”

“I was superb,” smiled Jo. “I enjoy medicine.” She looked like she had more to say to Tara, but kept her mouth shut as she glanced at Mary.

“Well,” said Bianca. “At least you’ll have something new to try after dinner.”

“Recreation time is after dinner, right?”  Tara said narrowing her eyes. “Do we each get to pick what we do for recreation or is this something we all do as a group - to try new things?”

“After dinner concludes at noon, we have an hour and a half for recreation,” said Bianca. “Generally, there aren’t many group activities, though there are some. Group recreation tends to occur after supper. For our midday recreation, sisters will sometimes walk together in the grove, take a nap, read in the library, or any number of hobbies, so long as they are virtuous and Godly.”

“Would you walk with me in the grove, Ruth?” asked Oriana. “I had a question about something you mentioned yesterday.”

Tara nodded.  “Of course. I’m happy to join you there.  I wanted to see the trees ever since Bianca mentioned them.”

“A nap sounds good to me. I’m exhausted,” said Jo. Fortunately, she said it quietly, since she used an expression from Bacchus’s halls that roughly translated to “all fucked out.’ Mary shot her a confused look, but none of the other sisters seemed to notice. It was clear the redhead believed she was just expressing her tiredness.

Tara blushed, feel embarrassed for Jo.  She was never going to be forgiven for this adventure.  Jo would likely bring this one up until the end of time.

“Ah, very interesting. Sister Matilda is such an eloquent speaker that she largely only needed grunts to direct we. We did not exchange nearly as many words.”

Tara sighed.  “Well, looks like I’ll probably have a very long afternoon then.  I am fond of chatter. But, hey, at least you get to sing next. That sounds fun at the very least.”

“I… am. It seems like Sister Rose, Sister Catherine, and Sister Monica are the most… intriguing sisters to me? They all seem around my mother’s age…”

“They do have some very nice qualities.  I’d observed quite the same thing. I look forward to getting to know them.  Just remember, your place here. Pushing hard to get to know people might distance you from them.  Let things evolve naturally. There’s no rush. We have all the time we need to figure out our path here and if they can help you along the way… well, more the better.”  Tara lowered her voice, “How are you feeling?”

“I have all the time in the world, Ruth. As for how I’m feeling… well, I must confess that I do miss my old life somewhat. It’s clear that I took some things for granted when they were in front of me. Now their absence is pronounced.”

“I understand what you mean.  Try to stay focused on why you’re here, take comfort with your new sisters when you’re able.  In time I know that your heart will be satisfied.” Tara sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my family since coming here.  I had thought I’d mourned their deaths, my parents, before coming here and yet this place pulls something out of me - it’s… unexpected.  I miss my father a great deal. I think he’d be proud of me choosing to come here. He was a man of great faith… in God and in people. He wanted them to be happy, to be at peace, to know they had a purpose and place in the world.  He really was a good man...” Tara hated not being able to speak plainly. Talking as if she didn’t know Ori, as if Ori didn’t know Billy - it was maddening and yet she didn’t want to take the chance that someone overheard them.

“It sounds like he’d be very proud of you.” Oriana walked silently for a moment, then smirked. “We may need to help Joan with her more colorful expressions. It seemed that language failed her for a moment at dinner.” Ori dropped her voice. “And I’m fine. We should probably split after this loop- don’t want to seem too… us.” She smirked.

“Agreed.  I think Mary needs our help.  I know we’re here for our own reasons but … I’m not disagreeing with the Abbess.  Maybe there is a reason we all showed up at the same time. I’m going try to give her a pep talk and support her a bit.  I don’t want her getting too down on herself and leaving.”

“But…” Ori frowned, silencing herself. “Okay. If it matters to you.”

“She seems nice.”  Tara said softly, “And helping others can sometimes be a way to helping ourselves.  Maybe Mary will be a key to helping us on our mission too.”

“Oh. So cultivate an asset?”

“Not everything has to be viewed that way, but if you must.”  Tara smiled. “Maybe she’s just a nice girl and it’s a nice thing to do?”

“I know, but…” Oriana sighed. “I just… don’t care about her. But sure, since I care about y-” They heard voices as they walked. “You wouldn’t believe how excited I am to sing.”

“I bet.”  Tara didn’t miss a beat.  “I enjoy singing, but let me tell you, I don’t think anyone is going to offer it to me as a job here as a senior sister.”  She smirked. “I’m probably destined for a lot of cleaning.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing you. I knew a sister once who said that she who sings prays twice.”

“I used to sing when I was alone as a girl.  It’s not exactly something I’ve ever shared with anyone.  My older sister is quite gifted at it and, well, I guess I never wanted to be measured against her immense talents.  She has many gifts.” Tara shrugged. “I was happy just doing it for me … and God I guess. You know what I mean?”

“Yes,” said Oriana. “I was also an older sister, always placing myself first. But perhaps we’ll have time to speak of that later.” She smiled demurely as they passed a couple of senior sisters.

After that point, Ori and Tara didn’t have a chance to speak alone. They made their polite goodbyes and wandered off in search of their own leisure.

Tara wandered back to the dorms and paused outside of Mary’s room before deciding to tap on the door.

“Y-yes?”

“It’s Ruth.”  Tara said softly.  “I was wondering if you’d like some company?”

“Okay. Please come in.” When Tara opened the door, she saw that Mary had been lying in bed, though she’d stood to greet her guest.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your nap.”  Tara said as she entered. “I just thought you might need a friend after a rough morning.”

“Thank you, Ruth. That’s so kind of you. Please, sit.” Mary offered either the bed or the only chair in the room. “I’ll be fine, really. I just always thought things would be perfect here.”

Tara sat on the edge of the bed.  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Mary’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I… apparently almost made everyone sick by serving raw fish. Sister Catherine was nice about it. But she wouldn’t let me near any more fish, either.”

“It means that you have something new to learn.”  Tara smiled, trying to reassure her. “People like to teach what they’re good at to eager students.  I know it feels horrible to fail at something, but we’re all novices at some point. When you get back to the kitchens again, use your failure as an opportunity.  It can help you get to know Sister Catherine better, open doors to learn so much more than you knew before, create a bond that one day when you’re old and gray you’ll laugh with another novice about when she’s having as much trouble as you are now.  Every thing you do wrong, everything you botch, is just a chance to grow. Maybe you won’t be a great cook - I mean, it could be that’s not your path in life, but what you learn in the kitchens is more than how to make a meal. My father used to believe that making a meal together was a way to build our family’s closeness.  It was a place and time when we were together as a team, working to make something to nourish our bodies while our conversations nourished our hearts and spirits. I think you have a wonderful opportunity the next time you get to that kitchen and I’m excited for you. A girl who is good at cooking has nothing to bond with Sister Catherine over… you… well, who knows!  You could become the best of friends in time as she mentors you the way an older sister should mentor a younger one.”

“Thank you, Ruth.” Mary nodded. “I… I really appreciate you saying that. I suppose it is too early for me to get too upset about any one mistake.”

“When I was a girl, about ten, my mother made me a promise.  She said, ‘You’re going to mess up a lot more before your grown.  You’re going to make terrible mistakes and feel ashamed and embarrassed and I’m going to be cross with you from time to time.  I promise you that will be true, but I also promise you that nothing you say or do will ever change your place in this family or how much you’re cared for by your father and I.’  Well, we’re gonna mess up Mary. I promise we will, but we are a part of a bigger family now. Just… remember that they want you here. They want you as a sister. They’re on Team Mary.  They want you to make it and to be able to welcome you home as one of their own. No one here is watching you with expectations of when you’ll fail - if you remember nothing else, remember that.  It would make no sense at all for them to wish for anything but your success. Let them help you. Let them support you. If you really want this, then let nothing stand in your way. Hold confidently to the fact that God will guide and protect you.  If he is for you, what could stand against you?”

“It sounds like you have a wonderful mother,” said Mary. “Thank you for this, Ruth. I feel better already.”

Ruth heard footsteps outside in the hallway, seemingly walking away from Mary’s door.  

“I should go.  I don’t want anyone to whisper about us spending too much time with our heads together.”  She smirked.

“Why not? What’s wrong with talking?”

“They don’t know us yet.  First impressions are important.  A sister told me that today. If I mess up at some point, I don’t want that to reflect poorly on any of you.  You’re not the only one with fears of messing up, you know?” Her smirk slipped and became a bit more serious.  “I have a good feeling about you, Mary. I think you’re going to make it.”

“You too, Ruth.” Mary smiled. “I think I’m going to lie down now, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.  I think I’m going to go get some rest and relaxation as well.  Maybe tonight I’ll go looking for something good to read.”

*

The afternoon progressed quickly; midafternoon prayer was followed by another hour of mental prayer. Unlike earlier in the day, Tara found herself able to quiet her mind and focus her prayer.

When that was concluded, the sisters split up to their assignments. Tara had eagerly followed Sister Matilda outside with a bounce in her step, but her back was protesting as Tara walked inside from the fields. Sister Matilda had worked Tara and two of the other young sisters hard, as she’d had them dig out an older field to remove rocks and turn the soil. Any attempt at opening a conversation was met with a grunt from Sister Matilda. In fact, in an hour of half of labor, Matilda had uttered a couple expressions “Praise God”, but not much more than that. No wonder Ori’s face had looked a little pale earlier. 

Tara walked into the church, where most of the other sisters were waiting. For a half hour, they read the Gospel before transitioning into the Rosary. Each sister took a turn leading the Rosary. When that was completed, they prayed Vespers, the prayer of sunset. A hymn, a psalm, and a reading from the Gospel preceded the singing of the Magnificat; when the Canticle of Mary was completed, the sisters had their final hour of mental prayer for the day. When that was completed, they all moved to the dining hall for supper. This time, Jo sat across from and Ori sat next to Tara, with Mary and Bianca alongside.

“How was singing?”  Tara said to Oriana as she sat down, actually a little excited to hear how it went.

“Excellent,” said Oriana. “Sister Rose was… a very kind woman. Although I expect she was even kinder than usual because she liked my voice.”

“That’s very nice to hear.  Maybe she’ll be gentle with me when she hears my meager attempts.”  She chuckled. “Joan? Mary? Did your next projects go as well or better than the earlier ones?”

“I did a lot of cleaning,” said Joan. “It was… okay.” The look in her eyes suggested that rather than simply dropping her off in Paris, Tara may need to purchase the city for her to make up for this. Tara feared what she would do after some time working in the yard.  

“The medical building was wonderful!” said Mary, who was slightly shushed by Bianca and continued in a softer voice. “I… well there were no patients. But I cleaned things and spoke to Sister Monica, which was nice.”

“That sounds like a much better go of things for you Mary.  See, opportunities.” She smiled at Mary sincerely.

they ate their plate of vegetables and bread, Tara rested her hands in her lap for a moment. She felt Ori’s hand snake out and lace fingers with hers. The wide, billowing sleeves seemingly covered the action.  Tara tried her best not to react to the action, but the more she thought about the seemingly innocent action happening right under the noses of the nuns, the harder it became to not react. Tara took her nervous energy and moved her hand in Ori’s.  Slowly moving her fingers between her lover’s in a slow purposeful rhythm.  

“Nicarete” coughed and, squeezing once, slipped her hand away, though her eyes were bright.

Dinner continued with smalltalk, largely full of Mary asking Bianca questions and the three companions listening, learning about the history of the convent and the church. When they were finished, they had another hour and a half of recreation scheduled. 

Tara took this opportunity to look around, seeking out books which she might read in her spare time - but also opportunities to talk to the women whom she most thought likely to be Oriana’s mother.  In her head, she told herself that she’d know. If she could just talk to the woman, surely she’d see things - like the sorts of things which made people draw connections between herself and Aurora. Surely the woman who was Oriana’s mother would have some tells, things which were distinctly Ori… not learned behaviors but those sorts of inborn things that people didn’t think on much but as Ori’s lover, she’d surely know well.

Tara didn’t think she’d make much progress on the first night, but if she established herself as chatty and inquisitive to other sisters, well, it would make it simpler to talk to the suspects in question.  

Climbing the stairs, Tara went looking for the library.  She hoped this would be the place that either she might find records, information, or people to talk with.  It was as good a place to start as any really and maybe with full bellies the sisters would be inclined to give over some useful tidbits.

The library was a relatively small room, perhaps the size of two bedrooms, though every wall was filled with books. The majority of the books were religious, of course, but there were a good number on Italian history, medicine,  and various other subjects as well- though literature section seemed lacking. 

Tara took time to look through the books with all the zeal of someone having unearthed a small vault of treasures.  She savored the smell of the books, the feel of them in her hands as she flipped through their pages curious about each that caught her eyes.  She didn’t know what she would read first, it was the hazard of being someone who loved to learn, a desire to read more books than she had hours in a day.  

Tara stifled a yawn and decided she would somehow force herself to pick only two.  It was a difficult task. One, she told herself, had to be religious. This would be sensical in a place such as this and would raise fewer questions.  The other would be something she didn’t already know about - something she could learn while she was her or at least start at learning. The book she chose was about painting.