A letter from Elena withdrawing from the arrangement.
A statement signed by Doctor Paloma.
And beneath them, three sealed envelopes.
Each bore a date.
The first was written one month before Esperanza became pregnant with Tomás.
The second was written one month before Miguel was conceived.
The third was dated six weeks earlier.
Mother Caridad opened the newest envelope.
Inside was a medical appointment card from a private clinic in the city.
The patient’s name was listed as Ana Valdés.
Esperanza touched the card.
“That is me.”
The appointment date was seven weeks earlier.
Mother Caridad turned it over.
On the back, someone had written a brief note by hand.
She read it aloud.
You asked me long ago to keep the truth until you were strong enough to choose it freely. I fear I waited too long.
There was no signature.
But beneath the sentence was an address.
Not for the clinic.
Not for Father Esteban.
For a house in San Aurelio.
The same town where Elena had last lived.
Esperanza sat very still.
“Do you think my sister wrote this?”
“I do not know.”
“Then we must go there.”
Mother Caridad looked at the appointment card again.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Esperanza’s gaze moved toward the corridor, where Tomás could be heard asking Sister Lucía whether stones went to sleep.
“I want the children to remain here with Lucía.”
“That is sensible.”
“And Doctor Paloma should come with us.”
“I agree.”
Esperanza drew a slow breath.
For years, she had accepted uncertainty as a form of faith. Now she understood that faith did not always mean waiting quietly. Sometimes it meant walking toward an answer without knowing what it would require.
Mother Caridad gathered the documents.
As she lifted the final page from the box, something slipped from beneath it and landed on the table.
A photograph.
It showed two young women standing outside a small house.
One was unmistakably Elena. She had Esperanza’s eyes and the same gentle tilt to her smile.
The other woman was Sister Esperanza herself.
She was not wearing her habit.
She stood with one hand resting over the beginning curve of a pregnant belly.
On the back of the photograph, in Esperanza’s handwriting, were seven words:
I have chosen this. Please help me remember.
