The Fall(74)

“Franco knew everyone and those he didn’t know wanted the money. Even your father joined in the effort, every corner of the city turned upside down as they searched for her. Yet, no one came here. She was safe as long as she stayed within these walls. For her it was a small price she would willingly pay, if it meant her child were safe. We hoped that by the time the baby was ready to be born, Franco would have stopped looking.”

“He hadn’t.”

Not a question. The look on her face said it all. Franco was exactly like my father, and he didn’t give up easily. Nine months would have been a drop in the ocean when he had a vendetta to settle.

“No, he hadn’t.” She shook her head slowly. “He was enraged, assumed she had snuck off with another man. The vile lies he spread about her. Hateful, hateful things.” She closed her eyes, shuddering at the memory.

“So when the time came she made us promise that no matter what happened at the birth, she wouldn’t be taken to hospital. That she would rather die than go back to him. It was one in the same, in reality. Franco would have killed her just for leaving him. If he had know she had tried to keep away his child—a son—he would have killed not only her, but anyone who ever loved or helped her.”

Sister Catherine pushed out a breath, her hands grasping at the cloth around her chest. “That night . . . that night will haunt me for the rest of my days and then an eternity after. It was one of the worst storms we’d ever seen. The wind so wild I was sure the church would lift right off its foundation. There was no power; the neighborhood had been plunged into darkness. We had moved her into the church where she could be surrounded by the candles, hoping that under the Father’s watchful eye that both of them would be given a chance. But it wasn’t to be, and she succumbed just as he entered the world. A chilling sliding door between death and life.”

“Surely there was something you could have done?” The question was completely redundant, but my mind was unable to reconcile that Rose was willingly left to die. “Taken her to the hospital under a fake name?”

“The minute she would have left these walls, someone would have seen her. One of his spies would have reported back. No,” her head shook in conviction, “it was the only way. He never knew she was with child, so Michael was safe as long as no one knew who his mother had been. We hoped a kind family would have adopted him, loved him in a way we knew Rose would have done had she survived. But our hands were tied.” Her face fell in defeat.

“A year or so later, the church declared the marriage annulled. Giving him the freedom to re marry.” Her eyes got wide as she continued. “There were rumors circulating that he’d killed her. That he’d found her with a man and he shot them both. We were positive he had concocted the story so he could save face, preferring to have people believe he was capable of killing her, rather than allowing her to leave him.”

“He never knew he had a son,” I whispered back.

“No, he had two other wives. The second, Ophelia, was also unable to get pregnant. She was found in her bathtub drowned with an empty bottle of pills lying beside her on the floor. It was ruled a suicide, but no one knows for sure and his current wife, Selena, finally gave him a daughter fourteen years ago.”

“We can’t keep this from him.”

“I promised his mother.” Sister Catherine shook her head, her hands trying to steady herself as she leveraged her weight off the lawn. “That woman suffered enough. There is no telling what will happen if he finds out and that is something I will refuse to be part of.”

It took her a few tries, rolling to the side before her legs were able to find purchase. “Sofia, please. Let this go.” Her hands gripped mine tightly.

“I can’t make promises I can’t keep.” My eyes locked on hers. “I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes slowly before reopening them and adjusting her robing. “We really should be getting inside.” Her back straightened as she tried to force a smile. “You’re not wearing a jacket and this chill will cut right through you.”

I blinked a few times wondering if I fell into a wormhole and imagined the whole conversation. And if not for the grass stains on Sister Catherine’s habit, I’d been convinced it never took place.

“You’re right.” I smiled back, taking a tentative step back toward to door. “It is cold out here.”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Catherine waited until we were both safely inside. “I’m feeling a little light headed, so I’d like to lay down before dinner.”

“Would you like me to bring you something?” I asked nervously, Sister Catherine’s face still absent of any color. “Maybe a soda or a candy bar?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine.” She patted my hands gently and then excused herself, her feet moving slowly toward her bedroom.

Great.

Sister Catherine was the only person in this place who spoke to me and I was almost positive that door had slammed shut. Because I didn’t have enough people hating me, I had to alienate the one person who was literally risking their life for me. That’s not even taking into consideration she was a woman of the church. That alone was enough to send me rocking manically in the corner in a guilt-induced stupor. But what was my option? I wasn’t sure I could look into Michael’s eyes and not tell him what I knew.