Chapter 4~ Bold Disaster

Chapter 4

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Sylvia

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If there’s one thing I’ve never quite nailed, it’s the art of playing a demure, well-mannered nun in the making.

I think a perfect term for Sister Sylvia would be bold disaster, rather than the conventional bashful duchess aura everyone wears around here. That must be why Sister Agnes never liked me, and perhaps why Mother Beatrice watches me like a hawk.

Either that, or the fact that I showed up in her shelter like Jane Doe one rainy night, shivering like a hooker in church, wide-eyed and bleeding, with no memory of my own name.

Who wouldn’t find that suspicious? Certainly not Agnes.

“We need to call the gentleman.”

I folded my arms tightly and stared at Mother Beatrice like she had just suggested we start laundering money for the mafia. For someone who had spent years drilling discipline into people, she had an unsettling way of being too trusting.

“Respectfully, I think that’s a terrible idea,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “I understand that you’ve had some kind of divine conviction,” I said slowly, my voice laced with disbelief. “But I’m telling you, accepting anything from him is like signing our own death warrants.”

She adjusted her glasses with a frown. “How so?”

“For one, that man murdered Father Andrew. He’s the reason we had to move here. He’s the reason a dozen kids got hurt, and you want us to accept help from him?”

Mother Beatrice remained impossibly calm. “We don’t know that for sure.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Oh, sure. Maybe he was just standing there, handing out water bottles while his men burned down everything?”

She sighed. “Sylvia, we must offer people the chance to—”

“What are the odds that if we take his offer, we won’t end up six feet under? What if this is all part of his plan? Just like the devil, mafia men don’t just give things away. They take. They kill. They do terrible things. They could traffic us!” I threw up my hands. “Or worse!”

Mother Beatrice sighed. “And what, pray tell, is worse than being trafficked?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they have unlimited ideas in that area.”

“As Christians, we are called to see the good in people, even those who have walked dark paths. If we don’t offer them a chance to change, who will?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Ma, this is not some after-school rehabilitation program. This is the mafia. You know, the people who make others disappear faster than unpaid debts?” I scoffed. “You don’t just change them by accepting a free building!”

“But what if this is their way of trying?” she countered.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “With all due respect, that man is not looking for redemption. He’s looking for something else. And whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

Mother Beatrice leaned back in her seat and stared at me with suspicious eyes, “Why do you sound like you know this man on a personal level?”

I stiffened.

Why did I sound like I knew him personally? Well, maybe because just last night, that very man had looked at me like he was stripping away every last shred of my sanity, along with my clothes.

Oh God. He’ll make me go to hell if I have to be near him!

“Sister Sylvia?”

I swallowed, embarrassed and silently praying that Mother Beatrice had not listened to my sinful thoughts. “Of course not, I don’t know him… not enough to judge, anyway. I’m just— looking out for us. I’d so hate for anything to happen to Maeve, or any of the other kids. Look, my mother warned me that cartel men are very dangerous… especially these ones… you know, Italians.”

Before she could say anything, a knock sounded on the door.

Agnes poked her head in and looked right at Mother Beatrice like I wasn’t even there.

“There are people here, Ma… from the Parish. They want to speak with you.”

I shot Mother Beatrice a look, but she was already rising from her seat. She smoothed her habit and gave me a look that told me this conversation was far from over.

“I’ll speak with them,” she said. Then she surprised us both by adding, “Sylvia, come along.” She didn’t wait for my response before she started walking out.

I forced a tight smile. “I’d rather not.”

Agnes, the weapon fashioned against me here snorted. “Of course, you wouldn’t. Disobedient as the fallen angel, you pretentious—”

I narrowed my eyes on her, but I wasn’t about to start something in front of Mother Beatrice. I turned and walked out, but not before giving her a scornful glare.

“I’m telling you, you should be more careful with your tone,” Agnes whined. “Talking to Mother like that—”

“Spare me the lecture,” I said sweetly. “Sister of the Year.”

Agnes scoffed. “It’s funny how you act like you care about this place when all you ever do is bring destruction to us. From the minute you set foot here—”

I clenched my jaw and ignored her, and by doing that, her words floated away with the wind. It was an old habit and a mantra I’d kept; detach your mind from the scene and the pain goes away.

When we got to the door of the small space Mother Beatrice used as her office, I stood by the door while she went in to meet her guests. Subconsciously, my mind trailed to Nikolai and I cringed before even realizing it.

“I’ll be waiting for your response before 6PM tomorrow!” Those were his exact words.

I glanced at the large clock over my head, it was exactly 5:47PM. I’d purposefully stalled before coming to meet Mother Beatrice, and I also withheld the fact that he gave a specific time. Nikolai Gianni was no saint. If anything, men like him lack patience and the conviction to do good. He’d take the hint and give up.

Minutes passed.

Then, finally, the doors opened, and the men in habits stepped out. I didn’t move, didn’t even pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping as I watched them walk to their car.

When the doors opened again, Mother Beatrice called my name. Agnes glared at me as I turned, hesitating for a second before walking in.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look up.She just gestured to the file on the table. Slowly, I walked closer and flipped it open.

My stomach dropped.

A formal eviction notice.

Effective immediately.

“We have to leave,” I whispered, gripping the edge of the table.

Mother Beatrice pressed a hand to her temple like she was trying to stop her brain from exploding. “Sylvia, I don’t know what else to do.”

I swallowed. “And the meeting? What did they want?”

She gestured to the chair, and I sat, my fingers tightening into fists.

“You’ll see.”

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and the men from earlier walked back in.

I immediately rose from my seat and opened the door, ready to excuse myself, but one of them raised a hand.

“Stay.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He looked between me and Agnes. “Which of you is Sister Sylvia?”

I hesitated before Mother Beatrice gestured toward me.

“This is her.”

The man nodded. “Good. You’ll want to hear this too.”

A sinking feeling settled in my gut. My first thought was that they’d found out I snuck out and eventually met a man in a lonely, abandoned place in the middle of the night.

My second thought was that they’d planted a hidden camera in my room and discovered my very personal episodes with Sin. Oh, my God. My cheeks flushed immediately, something else dropped lower than my heart rate—my head.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. “It was the devil!”

The two men frowned. Mother Beatrice raised an eyebrow like she was trying to figure out if I was making an actual confession or just accidentally inhaled some holy incense. They waited for me to finish. I couldn’t.

“What are you talking about?” the stern-looking one asked, the look on his face showed he was clearly struggling to determine whether I was having an actual spiritual breakdown or just an overactive imagination.

I glanced between all three people in the room, silently praying for the ground to swallow me whole. “I… I know I’m in trouble. I… I didn’t mean to…” Try as I might, the words refused to come out.

The vows I’d read and memorized too many times began replaying in my head.

A Sister preparing to take her vows must not be involved with a man…

A Sister must never lie…

A Sister must not entertain lusty thoughts towards…

Mother Beatrice slammed her palm on the table once, a simple method she used whenever she was calling us to order. I flinched so hard, I swear I could’ve high-jumped into the air like a startled kangaroo. I nearly knocked my head on the ceiling. If only I were taller.

“Sylvia, until this meeting is over, you’ll not speak unless you’re spoken to. Do you understand?”

I nodded vigorously, and suddenly, it felt every inch like I was signing a non-disclosure agreement with my entire body. I should have added a “Yes, Ma” for effect, but my tongue was quite literally tied, so I just kept nodding.

“Good. Now,” she turned to the men, “Gentlemen, I apologize for that interruption. Sylvia was a sheltered child, so she gets a little… scared around people.”

The men glanced over and there I was, still nodding dramatically. I can imagine they pictured I was under the influence of a demonic spirit. The look on their faces said it. Finally, they shook their heads, probably in what they thought was pity, but I interpreted as mild disbelief.

Mother Beatrice leaned forward. “So, you mentioned bad news and good news.”

He nodded. “Which would you like first?”

“Let’s hear the bad news first.”

I braced myself for exorcism.

“This property,” the man said, tapping the eviction letter, “has been sold. The new owner has finalized everything, and you have less than a week to vacate.”

It was far from what I expected, but honestly, it was worse than anything I could’ve imagined. This shelter and everyone in it meant the world to me. More than my very existence. I mean, I wouldn’t even be alive today without Mother Beatrice, Father Andrew, and the kids here.

What could we do with 53 kids and 16 sisters in a week?

Where would we move them? I couldn’t even picture it.

“Sold?” Mother Beatrice echoed.

“Paid for in full,” the man confirmed. “The new owner expects to start renovation and subsequently move in soon.”

I exhaled slowly.

Who would buy this place? Why now?

“And the good news?”

The man exchanged glances with his colleague before speaking, “There’s been an anonymous offer. Someone reached out to the Parish and offered to provide you with a new place—free of charge.”

My jaw dropped. Anonymous?

Oh God, if I wasn’t in this room surrounded by saints, I’d be screaming, “Fuck Nikolai Gianni and his bloody help!”

Mother Beatrice blinked. “Someone… is offering to help?”

“Yes. But there’s a catch.” He paused. And again, my heart skidded to a halt.

The second man picked up from where his colleague left off. “The donor didn’t leave any contact information, or any other details at that. Only one condition.”

My breath caught.

“If you want to accept the offer,” he said, “someone here already knows how to reach him.”

Silence.

Finally, Mother Beatrice spoke. “Did he say who?”

“He mentioned Sister Sylvia. Which is why she’s here. You’ll have to make a choice and make it quick.”

I could feel the spotlight burning into me once again. If only my legs weren’t trembling so much, I’d run out of the room like I had a firecracker up my skirt.

The first man cleared his throat, his face suddenly turning serious. “Also, we’d like to warn you, Sister Sylvia, to remember who you are in Christ. As a reputable body, we hope this generous gesture from this fellow is not coming as a result of a personal or carnal relationship between you two.”

“Far from it sir!” I blurted out once again. “I’ve only met the said man once and… he liked what we do here. I guess that’s why he… offered.”

A Sister must never lie…

The man nodded. “Very well then, if and when you accept this offer, the church will have to personally monitor the project to avoid mistakes and…”

“Well,” Mother Beatrice interjected tactfully. “We’ll discuss it.”

The men stood. “And we’ll be expecting an answer soon. But I should warn you—the church is not willing to invest any more resources into this shelter. The last… situation cost us too much.”

I felt my hands tremble behind my back.

“If you don’t take this offer,” the man continued, “We’ll be forced to shut the shelter down permanently.”

And just like that, the room felt colder than a freezer in winter.