CHAPTER 7: Broken vows mended hearts

The  sharp wind clawed at the girl's  threadbare shawls as they trudged down the long gravel road leading to the  church. It was Sunday , the day of worship and Sunday  walks to Mr. Peter's  church were no respite from the Cruelty of School life, they were  just another reminder of their poverty and  powerlessness. Anna's fingers were raw from the cold, her thin shoes offering little protection  against the  cold ground. She winced with each step, her stomach aching from days of near starvation. 

Despite her own hunger, Anna had taken to giving away the larger portions of her meager meals to  the younger girl's , those whose hollow cheeks and  trembling hands stirred a sharp  ache  in her heart. She didnt have much to give, but it felt like the only power she still possessed- the power to choose kindness, even when the world  offered none.

The church loomed ahead, it was a Gray stone building with an iron cross on its roof, surrounded by frost- Covered  trees that rattled like bones in the  wind. Inside, the air wasn't  warmer, but the sermons always carried a fire of their own, a fire kindled by Mr. Peter's voice,which thundered from the Pulpit about  discipline, sacrifice, and obedience.  But this particular  Sunday was different, As the girls lined up outside the  school gates after their return, a polished black car pulled into the  compound. Its wheels rolled with the arrogance  of  wealth and out stepped Mr Peter, filled with a group of finely dressed relatives.  Their faces were ruddy with warmth, their coats thick as fuck and trimmed in gold buttons. The girls could barely look up both from fear and  shame. Mrs Mary stood near the gate, her hands folded  tightly in front of her apron. Her face,usually composed in its stern gentleness, was pale. Mr Peter walked  up to her, his boots crunching the gravel with authority.

“ I've noticed some…. care and attention, Mrs. Mary”, Mr Peter said, loud  enough for the students and  staff to hear. “ You have allowed warmth to weaken this institution. That is not what this  school was founded upon. These girls must learn discipline, above anything  else. Life offers no comfort, and neither should we”. Mrs Mary pressed her lips together so tightly they nearly disappeared.  She did not argue, She couldn't.  Her silence was heavy with the  weight of Submission.  

Then Mr Peter's  cold eyes landed on a girl in the crowd, a small girl with bright, curly red hair. He pointed at her, his voice  like a whip. 

“ Immodesty in apperance breeds immodesty in spirit . All the girl's  hair must be shorn immediately. Modesty must prevail. Let it be done by morning”. Gasps rippled through the line of students . Many clutched at their braids and curls as if trying to protect  a part of their  dignity.  Anna's  chest tightened. Her heart was already  pounding,  but this new  decree sent  saddness flooding through her limbs. And then Mr Peter's gaze swept over the crowd and stopped on her.

Anna's  stomach dropped.

 

He frowned. “You. Girl. Where is your Bible?”

 

Anna blinked in horror. In her trembling anxiety over his arrival, she had left it on her bed in the dormitory.

 

“I—I left it—”

 

“Excuses,” Mr. Peter spat. “The mark of a liar is always her tongue.”

 

He turned to the crowd, his voice rising. “Let it be known, this girl is not only careless—she is deceitful. I was warned about her. A liar, I was told. A manipulator. Beware of such a one.”

 

Anna felt the air leave her lungs. A dull roaring filled her ears. She stumbled back slightly, but a teacher seized her arm and pulled her forward.

 

“Put her on the punishment stool,” Mr. Peter ordered.

 

They brought the wooden stool—paint-chipped and wobbly—and placed it in the center of the yard. Anna climbed up with trembling legs, the cold wind slicing across her face. She could feel every eye on her—some curious, some pitying, many more judging.

 

“From now on,” Mr. Peter said, addressing the students and teachers alike, “this girl is to be observed but not engaged. Lies are contagious. Her behavior must not infect the others.”

 

He turned and walked away, his entourage murmuring behind him, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

 

Anna stood alone, high above the others, but lower than she had ever felt in her life. Shame pressed into her like a physical force, tightening her throat and burning behind her eyes. Her knees trembled on the stool, and her hands, red with cold, clutched at her skirt just to keep herself upright.

 

Then, through the blur of faces, Anna saw Olivia.

 

Olivia was standing in the corner of the yard, arms folded under her apron. Her eyes met Anna’s—and Olivia smiled.

 

It wasn’t pity.

 

It was solidarity.

 

Anna’s breath hitched. That small smile, steady and sure, was like a flame in the darkness. A reminder that she wasn’t entirely alone.

 

The bell rang, signaling the end of evening duties, but Anna remained on the stool until the sun dipped low. She was finally helped down by one of the older girls in silence.

 

That night, the dormitory was quieter than usual. The other girls avoided her, just as they had been told. Her bed felt colder. Her soul, even more so.

 

She stared at the ceiling, unsure if she would sleep at all.

 

Just as she closed her eyes, a quiet rustle came from the edge of her bed.

 

A hand small, delicate, placed a piece of stale bread beside her pillow.

 

Anna turned to see Olivia’s  reaction into the shadows.

 

But before she disappeared completely, Olivia whispered, “Don’t believe him.”

 

And with that, she was gone.

 

Anna clutched the bread in her hand. It wasn’t just food. It was resistance. It was a whisper of friendship in a world that had turned its back on her.

 

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but tonight… she had hope.

 

Until a sound rang through the hallway—a scream that pierced the silence and jolted the entire dormitory awake.

 

The door burst open. One of the youngest girls was sobbing uncontrollably, her nightdress torn and her feet bare. "She’s gone! Olivia’s gone! 

 

Anna shot upright, heart thundering.

 

Gone?

 

She jumped from her bed, racing toward the door, even as teachers yelled for the girls to stay in place.

 

But Anna didn’t care.

 

She had to find her.