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not. I think something happened to my faith in the Church after what I discovered at Saint Blaise’s. Their adoption mill was a scheme to make money for the Church.”

“And to find good homes for abandoned babies born out of wedlock. What’s so wrong about that?”

“They treated it like a business.”

“There may have been some unfortunate actions by the Sisters who ran it, but the motives were right. And to be crass about it, those infants were better off in rich homes than poor ones.”

“True. But poor people should have been able to adopt them too, not just rich ones.”

“Do you know for a fact they weren’t?”

“No, I don’t,” Hattie admitted. “The whole thing seems like such a mess, and burning the records was unforgivable.”

“That was wrong, I’ll grant you. But none of it is adequate reason for you to break your vows.”

“I came here for the wrong reasons, Mother. We both know that now. I lied about my vocation.”

“And can you truly say you haven’t had a vocation in eighteen years? I doubt that, I’ve seen you work. I know your heart. You’re a good nun, Sister.”

“Thank you,” Hattie said humbly.

“I have a suggestion for you. Take a year’s leave, on a sabbatical, and go to Africa. We’ll put you in one of our missions there, or a hospital. See in a year if you still want to be released from your vows. If you’re sure of it then, I won’t oppose it.”

“And will you oppose it now?” Hattie looked worried.

“No. But I won’t help you. I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. You need to take more time to decide. That’s a very important decision.”

“I know it is. I’ve been thinking about it for months.”

“I think that ex-nun you talked to in Ireland influenced you, and demoralized you.”

“I don’t agree.” But a small part of Hattie thought the superior might be right. Fiona Eckles had been so angry at the Church, and had predicted that in the end it would make Hattie want to break her vows too. Maybe she was right. But for Hattie, the decision was spawned by many things, not just the Church making money from an adoption mill.

“I’d like you to give my suggestion some thought. A year’s sabbatical before you make a final decision, and then we’ll talk. And you can spend the year in Africa, doing the work you love. You can pick the location.”

“I’d like to go back to Kenya, if you agree.”

“It’s not up to me,” Mother Elizabeth reminded her. “The bishop approves the postings.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hattie said, disappointed. She didn’t want to be put off. She wanted to make a decision. And she knew she didn’t have to be a nun to go to Africa. She had researched it, and there were other organizations that had hospitals and programs there. She could sign up for one, she was a registered nurse. It was easier for her with the Church of course. But she was sure that other humanitarian organizations would accept her.

“Take your time with the decision, Sister. It’s important. You’ve invested eighteen years of your life here. Don’t just throw that away. Get the demons out of your head, and their voices.” She was making a strong case for Hattie remaining a nun, and even though she felt guilty leaving, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to stay. “You’ve been on a roller-coaster ride for the past few months, finding your sister’s daughter, the sexual harassment accusations, and your rape surfacing. That was the catalyst that brought you in here, seeking safety. It’s not what made you stay.”

“I don’t know what made me stay,” she said, looking miserable again. “I’ve never wanted children, now I even wonder about that. I’m probably too old. But I suddenly realize that I’ve spent nearly twenty years as a nun and now I’m not sure I should ever have been one. It’s an unnatural life. And the people who make the decisions far above us in the Church are just humans like us. What if their decisions are wrong? I think I want to be an ordinary person, not a nun, but just a nurse.”

“We are ordinary people, and yes, the Church does make mistakes. But they make good decisions too. There will always be some rotten apples in the barrel, in every situation, every group. But don’t forget there are good apples too. You’re one of them. A very good apple. I don’t want to see you give that up.”

“What if it’s wrong for me?” Hattie tried to plead her case, but the superior wasn’t swayed.

“Why would it be wrong now?” the superior challenged her, her eyes looking deep into Hattie’s. “Who turned you against this life of ours? You need to look at that.” They both knew Fiona Eckles had. Mother Elizabeth was fighting for her soul. And suddenly for the first time in eighteen years, Hattie wanted freedom. For more than just a year. She didn’t want the equivalent of a trial separation. She wanted a divorce.

“I’ll think about it,” Hattie said, looking anguished. She kissed the superior’s ring, left the office, and hurried off to work. She called her sister that night and told her what had happened.

“Why do you have to go to Africa? Why can’t you work with the poor here?” Hattie was exasperated. The mother superior didn’t want her to leave the religious order. And her sister didn’t want her to leave New York.

“I was happy there,” Hattie said, annoyed.

“Can’t you be happy here? Africa is dangerous, you could get sick or injured, or caught in an uprising of some kind. I don’t want you killed.”

“I’d rather be dead than wasting my life. And I’m beginning to think that’s what I’m doing here. I came in under false pretenses. I don’t belong here, Mel.”

“I’ve been telling you that for eighteen years. And now you believe me and want to leave. I don’t want to lose you, Hattie. You’re all I have.”

“You have