Angeline by Anna Quinn

Author:Anna Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2023-01-12T20:23:36+00:00

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

The fifteen-minute bell rings for Vespers. Back in her yurt, Sister Angeline quickly undresses, removes the swimsuit, places it in the bottom drawer of the dresser, puts her habit back on. Thinks about standing in the silver blue, holding hands with Gina. The enormous body of water they’d stood in. Gina’s words—maybe he’s lost his way, maybe he’s failed you—running through her mind.

In the chapel now the Sisters, three facing three, fall to their knees, close their eyes, and tilt their heads up. They give thanks for the day, calling and responding in Latin, chanting soft and deep, and Sister Angeline allows the prayers to carry her inward, upward, beyond the confines of time and self. The cat presses softly against her legs and mews soothingly. When the service is over, Sister Angeline steps out of the chapel with a growing sense that she is where she needs to be. Even if it means accepting that she might have to leave the Church she’s always known. Even if it feels like losing another family.

She walks with the other Sisters to the dining yurt. Alice links her arm through hers, Gina, Kamika, and Sigrid with linked arms in front of them. Everyone silent. Gina looks over her shoulder and flashes Angeline a smile. Sister Angeline returns the smile, and tears come into her eyes. She is beginning to understand something else. In this place, with these five women who love so easily, there are new reasons to be alive. She thinks of the ones who spoke to her after the accident—her aunt, the doctors, the nurses. When she couldn’t conceive of life without her family. When she couldn’t understand why she lived and they didn’t. It will get better, they said. You’ll see, it will get better.

She thinks, What if I’d stayed in the cloister? What if I hadn’t met these extraordinary women? She thinks about how Sister Josephine imagined this life she couldn’t imagine.

They are almost to the dining room door, when Edith comes from behind, touches her elbow. “May I speak with you?” she says, and Sister Angeline can tell by the tone of her voice that this will not be a good thing.

Edith walks her toward the statue of Mary in the center of the courtyard. Orange calendula blossoms tangle with forget-me-nots around her stone feet. Sister Angeline folds her hands under her scapular, fixes her eyes on Edith’s.

“I wanted you to know that the authorities have arrested Amelia’s father and placed the two children in a foster home—in Seattle.”

“What? I just saw Amelia yesterday. How—”

“Apparently, CPS received more calls yesterday, and they took the children later that evening. We received word an hour ago.”

Sister Angeline reaches out to the statue, rests her hand on the stone of Mary’s arm. She’s so relieved for Amelia, but still, there’s something interrupted and crumbling in her heart.

“It’s a blessing,” Edith says. “They’re away from him—they’re safe. And just so you know, they said our calls helped, so that matters. Shows that the protocol worked.

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