“She was already ill. She gave me an envelope and asked me to keep it safe until she could explain.”
“Where is it?” Esperanza asked.
“I placed it in the chapel archive.”
“Did you open it?”
“No. The next morning, Mother Inés was taken to the hospital. She died three days later.”
The car grew silent.
Mother Caridad stared through the windshield.
“I forgot about it.”
“After all these years?” Paloma asked.
“I thought it contained old parish records.”
Esperanza felt the white stone still warm in her palm.
“What was written on the envelope?”
Mother Caridad looked back at her.
“Your name.”
They reached the next village as the church bell rang six times.
Mother Caridad entered the small post office and telephoned the convent.
Sister Lucía answered.
“Everything is fine here,” she said. “The children have eaten, Miguel is asleep, and Tomás has not climbed the fig tree.”
Mother Caridad allowed herself a brief smile.
“Good.”
“Did you find Elena?”
“Yes.”
“And Esperanza?”
“She is well.”
A pause followed.
Then Lucía’s voice lowered.
“Mother, there is something you should know.”
Mother Caridad’s smile disappeared.
“What happened?”
“Sister Beatriz left the convent this afternoon.”
“Left?”
“She said she had been summoned to the diocesan office.”
“By whom?”
“She did not say.”
Mother Caridad looked through the glass toward the motorcar, where Esperanza and Doctor Paloma waited.
“Did she take anything?”
“I do not know. But after she left, I went to check the chapel archive.”
Mother Caridad gripped the receiver.
“Why?”
“Because she had been carrying one of the old archive keys.”
“And?”
Lucía hesitated.
“The cabinet was open.”
Mother Caridad closed her eyes.
“Was anything missing?”
