Todos los capítulos de Tides of Grace: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Three months drifted by, quiet as the tide slipping out to sea.Father Michael hardly slept. Most nights, he just sat by the fire, eyes flicking from the flames to Marrine’s cradle. She looked so peaceful in the orange glow, her tiny chest rising and falling with the deep, steady rhythm of the ocean. He’d lose hours just watching her, searching for some sign she was anything but ordinary—a twitch, a whisper, a glimpse of the strange the letter promised. But she was just a baby. Beautiful. Almost too content. She didn’t fuss much, and sometimes, she’d smile at the flickering light as if it whispered to her. On cold nights, when the fire popped, Michael sometimes thought her lips started shaping silent words no baby should know.He told everyone Marrine was a foundling—left on the church steps. Folks pitied her, but mostly they were curious. Her dark hair, those sea-colored eyes—people always paused to stare. The nuns took turns with her feeding and care, though Sister Agnes spent the m

Marrine was only five when she started asking the tough questions.She wasn’t just clever—she was relentless. Curiosity burned in her, and you couldn’t put it out with an easy answer. Most Sundays, she’d claim her spot in the front pew, chin tipped up, taking in every word Father Michael said. And when Mass was over, she’d find him. She always had questions—real questions that made his throat go tight. Why was the sea so loud at night? Why did the fish seem to follow her? Why did some of the nuns glance her way and cross themselves?But nothing stung more than her questions about family.One Sunday after Mass, while the last few parishioners drifted out, Marrine piped up, her small but clear voice echoing around the sanctuary. “Why don’t I have a mama and papa like everybody else?”The words hit Agnes so suddenly she almost doubled over. She tried to hide it, smoothing Marrine’s dark hair back behind her ear with shaking fingers. “You have us, sweetie—me, Father Michael, all the siste

Zeke and Marrine stuck together after that.They were like two sides of the same coin—never apart, tied by something bigger than friendship. You’d spot them in the gardens, hunched close over a flower, squinting at a ladybug, or arguing about the weird little mysteries only they cared about. Or they’d be tucked into a pew during Sunday Mass, passing secret notes shaped like paper boats and trying to hide their laughter. Most days, they ended up under the old oak behind the church, trading secrets and sharing things like the world would end if anyone else heard.That oak was theirs. It was ancient, twisted with time, its roots crawling over the soil like old knuckles. Its branches reached wide, leaves whispering secrets when the wind came through. They’d carved their initials there—M and Z, side by side, plain as day. They camped out for hours, watching the clouds, talking about everything and nothing all at once.Zeke showed her how to climb, his arms and legs everywhere, moving easy

Not everyone had been happy to see Marrine in Port Haven.Mrs. Patricia, the deacon's wife, was the most vocal about it.Tall and thin with a mouth that seemed permanently twisted in disapproval, she'd made it clear from the moment Marrine arrived at the convent that she was anything but welcome.Patricia considered Marrine to be a mystery, and that was something she hated even more than a beggar on the street corner."She's only a foundling," said Patricia one Sunday morning as she adjusted the lace cuffs on her wrists behind the pews."No family, no past.Who knows where she came from?" Her friend, Mrs. Bell, shot a glance toward the front of the church where Marrine sat with the nuns."And the priest's son," Patricia added in a hushed voice."Why is he always with her?" Mrs. Bell paused, considering this."Zeke?" she finally said."Of course Zeke.The boy is always on her case, walking her home from school, helping her with her chores, sitting with her when she has to stay after sc

Marrine had been sixteen when the world turned upside down.It had been on a Sunday afternoon.The church had been all but deserted, most of Port Haven having gathered to hear the morning sermon and then marched off home for lunch, leaving the old stone building eerily quiet under the warm afternoon sun.The bells had stopped ringingthe last of the few visitors had goneeven the sisters had gone back to the convent leaving the old chapel to its own devices.Sunlight flooded in through the stained-glass windows throwing pools of blue, red and gold across the worn wooden pews.It was one of those afternoons when the whole world seemed to slow down.Zeke wandered into the chapel for no particular reason.He had been restless all morning and had told his father to help him fix the fence at the back of the rectory, but he had been quick about it and had nothing better to do.He thought perhaps he would pray.Not that anything was particularly wrong, but he felt the need of somewhere quiet