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.
Lucía nodded.
“Of course.”
As Esperanza passed, Mother Caridad touched her arm.
“We will speak again soon.”
Esperanza gave a tired smile.
“Please do not decide everything without me.”
“I will not.”
It was a promise, and Mother Caridad intended to keep it.
Once they were alone, she led Doctor Paloma to her office.
The strip of medical tape still lay on the handkerchief.
Paloma examined it more closely.
“There is something beneath the adhesive.”
She angled it toward the light.
A tiny blue thread clung to one corner.
Mother Caridad stared at it.
“The infirmary blankets are blue.”
“So are the old curtains in the guest rooms.”
“The guest rooms are locked.”
“Who has the keys?”
“I do. Sister Beatriz has a second set.”
“Anyone else?”
Mother Caridad thought.
“Mother Inés kept a private ring of keys. After her death, they were never found.”
Paloma sat down.
“There is something more.”
Mother Caridad did not respond. She had expected as much.
“The night before Esperanza told you she was pregnant with Tomás, she was brought to my clinic.”
Mother Caridad’s expression changed.
“By whom?”
“A driver.”
“Whose driver?”
“He said he worked for the diocese.”
“Did you see Esperanza?”
“No. By the time I arrived, the car had gone.”
“Why was she taken there?”
“I was told she had fainted and recovered.”
“Who told you?”
Paloma opened her notebook and turned to a page near the back.
“A man named Father Esteban.”
Mother Caridad knew the name.
He had served as diocesan administrator during the year after Mother Inés died. He was a quiet, orderly man who rarely visited the convent in person.
“He retired two years ago,” she said.
“He moved to the coastal parish.”
“Did you contact him?”
“I wrote twice. He did not answer.”
Mother Caridad crossed to the cabinet where old correspondence was stored.
She unlocked the bottom drawer and searched through several folders.
“Father Esteban approved the children’s registrations,” she said.
“I know.”
“He also recommended that their parentage remain sealed.”
“I know that too.”
Mother Caridad turned.
“And you accepted this?”
“I objected.”
“Not strongly enough.”
The words landed hard.
Paloma’s face tightened.
“No,” she said. “Not strongly enough.”
For the first time that day, Mother Caridad saw no defense in her. Only regret.
“I told myself I was protecting Esperanza from scandal,” Paloma continued. “I told myself that if she was healthy and the children were loved, forcing an investigation might cause more harm than good. But perhaps I was also protecting myself from admitting I had lost control of something I helped begin.”
Mother Caridad looked at her for a long moment.
Then she returned to the desk.
“Regret is useful only if it changes what we do next.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We begin with what can be proven.”
She placed the letter from Elena beside the anonymous note.
“Is Elena alive?”
“I believe so.”
“Where?”
“The last address I had was in San Aurelio.”
“That is four hours away.”
“Yes.”
“Does she know about Tomás and Miguel?”
Paloma hesitated.
“I do not know.”
“You have said those words too many times today.”
“They are still the truth.”
