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The Irony
“How could she be the same sister if the photo was taken decades ago?” I asked Gabriel.
“I don’t know, but you are looking at its result.” His was starting to be breathy. “Do you think it is really possible that this is Mother Renata?” I asked again.
But Gabriel did not respond as he was bearing the pain. He was paler than before, and when I looked at his arm, the wimple around it was not drenched from his blood. “We have to go.” I announced, hiding the photograph on my cloth pocket. And then I carried his weight again.
He was grunting the whole time we were climbing the stairs. When we reached the opened door, I peeked out, seeing that the chapter house was still silent and empty. I sat him on a chair, so I could slide back the wall. And when I turned back around, Mother Renata was calmly gazing at
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