Page 67 of The Cost of Corruption
I refused to believe this was actually happening. This had to be a dream. A terrible nightmare.
Many of the sisters hadn’t been happy to see me when I arrived back at the convent a few days ago, but they’d still opened the doors. They might not have heard from my father about my adventures in the secular world, but between my strange, new clothes and the rumors flying around on the street, they knew some kind of trouble had happened.
The kind of trouble that only a Costa could get herself into.
But, in the end, it was only Mother Superior’s opinion that mattered. After a long stint in the confessional and hours after clutching my rosary afterward, she allowed me to stay.
There were conditions, of course. On top of rising an hour earlier than everyone else to pray for forgiveness and taking on extra tasks around the grounds, she expected me to be a model of perfect behavior.
There would be no more issues. No more distractions. No more trouble.
And for the past five days, I’d followed her instructions to the letter.
Until the embodiment of trouble had come bursting through the door, calling my name.
“Sister Theresa,” Mother Superior said, her voice as serious and grave as I’d ever heard. “Do you know this man?”
I let out a breath and felt my heart sink as my shoulders sagged. “Yes.”
A slow hum of murmurs filled the air as the other sisters began to whisper. But Mother Superior ran a tight ship and wasn’t about to let her chapel become a den of gossip.
She clapped with enough force to silence the room in a heartbeat.
“The remainder of vespers is canceled,” she announced. “You will all return to your evening chores immediately.”
I started to stand with the other sisters, but Matteo instantly grabbed my wrist.
At the same time, Mother Superior said, “Not you, Sister Theresa.”
Of course. What was I thinking?
There was no way I was getting out of this mess that easily.
The three of us sat in uneasy silence as the rest of the audience made their way out of the chapel. Only once the heavyoak door was finally closed did Mother Superior cross her arms and look down at Matteo and me.
“Now, you two,” she said, her voice somehow even more imperious than usual. “What in the name of heaven is going on?”
“I told you,” Matteo said before I could open my mouth to explain. “I’ve come to take Chastity home. She doesn’t belong here.”
“While I’m inclined to agree with that last point,” the Mother said, “I am still going to demand more details. Who you are would be a good start.”
Since it seemed this wasn’t a dream and the earth wasn’t about to put me out of my misery by opening up and swallowing me whole, I supposed I would have to explain.
“Mother, this is the man I was telling you about.”
“Yes, child, I gathered that much,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. “What is his name?”
“Matteo D’Angelo,” he answered.
“Oh, I see.” The Mother’s eyes widened in recognition and surprise. “Now I understand why your father was so upset at your disappearance, Sister. And why my chapel door was nearly busted off its hinges.”
“I’m so sorry for that,” I rushed to apologize to the Mother.
Matteo, on the other hand, only shook his head. “I’m not.”
“I didn’t imagine you would be, Mr. D’Angelo,” the Mother shot back. “Your family is somewhat infamous for not caring about the well-being of others, aren’t they?”
“Only of those who try to stand in the way of what we want,” Matteo said.
