Esperanza leaned forward.
“What?”
“The night before your first pregnancy was discovered, Mother Inés came to my room.”
Doctor Paloma glanced at her.
“You never told me this.”
“I did not understand it then.”
Mother Caridad’s hands tightened around the letter.
“She was already ill. She gave me an envelope and asked me to keep it safe until she could explain.”
“Where is it?” Esperanza asked.
“I placed it in the chapel archive.”
“Did you open it?”
“No. The next morning, Mother Inés was taken to the hospital. She died three days later.”
The car grew silent.
Mother Caridad stared through the windshield.
“I forgot about it.”
“After all these years?” Paloma asked.
“I thought it contained old parish records.”
Esperanza felt the white stone still warm in her palm.
“What was written on the envelope?”
Mother Caridad looked back at her.
“Your name.”
They reached the next village as the church bell rang six times.
Mother Caridad entered the small post office and telephoned the convent.
Sister Lucía answered.
“Everything is fine here,” she said. “The children have eaten, Miguel is asleep, and Tomás has not climbed the fig tree.”
Mother Caridad allowed herself a brief smile.
“Good.”
“Did you find Elena?”
