Mother Caridad took it.
Inside was a single typed sentence.
Sister Esperanza may require your care again before the summer ends.
There was no signature.
No return address.
Esperanza looked at the doctor.
“You knew before I did.”
“I suspected someone knew.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I did not want to frighten you without proof.”
Mother Caridad unfolded the paper fully.
At the bottom, almost invisible, was a faint embossed mark.
A circle surrounding three small branches.
She recognized it.
“That seal belonged to Mother Inés.”
Paloma nodded.
“It was used on private convent correspondence.”
“But Mother Inés has been dead for five years.”
“Yes.”
The room fell silent again.
This time, the silence did not feel supernatural.
It felt human.
Someone had kept old stationery.
Someone had known the history.
Someone had been watching Esperanza closely enough to predict the pregnancy.
That narrowed the mystery, but it did not make it easier.
After the examination, Mother Caridad asked Sister Lucía to take Esperanza and the children into the garden.
“Stay with them,” she said.
