Mother Caridad set the tape on a clean handkerchief and reached for the telephone.
She paused before lifting the receiver.
For three years, she had tried to protect Sister Esperanza from gossip. She had answered every question from the bishop’s office with carefully chosen words. She had reassured the other sisters that charity sometimes required patience before understanding. She had arranged baptisms quietly, registered the children through proper channels, and made certain that little Tomás and Miguel were raised in warmth rather than suspicion.
But beneath all those practical decisions lived a truth she had barely admitted to herself.
She was afraid.
Not of Esperanza.
Not even of scandal.
She was afraid that someone she trusted had been hiding something from her inside the very walls she had spent her life guarding.
