Chapter one: The Unexpected Encounter
Just another day, or so it seemed: morning classes, afternoon Bible readings, and the endless countdown to freedom - two long years until she could break free from that suffocating institution.
That afternoon, following English class, took an unexpected turn. As she lay on her bed in the dormitory, the old wooden door suddenly creaked, and the hysterical screams from outside grew louder. Someone was pounding on the door, but to her surprise, it held firm against the onslaught.
– Let me out of here! I want to see big daddy!
The girl shouted frantically.
– You'd better give up, or we'll both get in trouble_her companion warned.- and I don't want to pay for something I didn't do.
With a resigned sigh, the young girl collapsed onto the creaky bed, surveying her surroundings. The room was stark and unadorned, its gray stone walls absorbing the faint light that filtered through the narrow window. The dark wood floor groaned beneath her feet, and the air was thick with the musty scent of age.
The iron bedframe, dressed in crisp white linens, stood against one wall, while a small wooden table and chair occupied the opposite corner. A wooden cross hung above the bed, and a compact oak wardrobe completed the sparse furnishings. The thick glass windows offered a glimpse of the exterior garden, but the light was softened by white linen curtains, casting a serene, contemplative atmosphere.
The silence was almost tangible, punctuated only by the distant sound of footsteps in the corridor and the ticking of an antique clock.
A far cry from the luxury she was accustomed to at home, now a distant memory. Her gaze drifted to the girl wearing the blue skirt and white button-down shirt – the school uniform, she realized, having seen other girls wear it as she was ushered by the surprisingly strong nun.
Blanche couldn't make out the girl's features behind the large, brown-covered book, but her dark hair and pale skin struck a striking contrast. How did she remain so pale, as if untouched by sunlight?
–What do you mean by 'punish us'? Can they hurt us? Because that nun really frightened me.
Blanche asked, concern etched on her face.
– No, physical punishment isn't their style._the girl behind the book replied with a sigh.– But believe me, writing Bible verses a hundred times or listening to Nylund's stories is a far crueler fate.
The young girl looked puzzled, but seemingly uninterested.
– To be honest, this place isn't suited for someone like me.
Blanche spoke up after a long silence. Intrigued by the girl's thick accent, the brunette finally lowered her book, revealing a serious face with firm, defined lines.
– Don't get me wrong... I shouldn't be here. My father is doing this to punish me.
– Of course, because the world needed another victim of circumstance.
– You know what? This is ridiculous. This place is ridiculous; I want to go home...
Blanche's blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Her voice trembled with anger and frustration.
The other girl sympathized with Blanche's apparent fragility. She set the book on the nightstand between their beds and sat beside Blanche, who now held her head in her hands.
– Listen… I know how tough it is to be away from home... but we can make this more bearable, together.
Blanche looked up, her blue eyes meeting a compassionate gaze. For a moment, her negative emotions gave way to relief and gratitude.
She nodded slowly, and tears began to roll down her face. A gentle hand remained on her shoulder until her tears dried.
Once she composed herself, they finally introduced themselves.
– I'm Dorothy Petrillo from Brooklyn.
– Blanche Marie Elizabeth Hollingsworth.
– Wow, you'll have to write that down for me.
The atmosphere filled with a light and playful energy as Blanche extended her delicate left hand for a handshake. The contact was brief, but enough for Dorothy to feel a shiver run down her spine, which she attributed to the cold air seeping through the window. Settling back into bed, Dorothy hid behind her book once more, while Blanche's gaze lingered.
– What made you end up here?
– Big Daddy needed to separate me from some... temptations.
Blanche said evasively. Dorothy smiled wryly, recognizing the euphemism.
– I see.
– What's your story, Petrillo? Why are you here?
– My mother's determined to turn me into a nun._ Dorothy's sarcasm was palpable.
– A nun? You_ Blanche laughed.- That's like imagining a vegetarian lion!
Dorothy smiled, her eyes sparkling.
– I know, right? My mom thinks I need 'reforming'.
Blanche's laughter faded, replaced by curiosity.
– And you don't want to be a nun?"
Dorothy can't help but laugh.
– Of course, who wouldn't want to spend their life in black habits and hymns?
Blanche chuckled again, and this time Dorothy joined in.
– So, what do you want to do?
Blanche asked. Dorothy glanced around, seeking inspiration.
– I want to be a writer, i know, writer about what truly matters... And you, Hollingsworth? What do you want?
Blanche hesitated before responding.
– I want to be happy. Live my life without others controlling me.
Dorothy nodded, lost in Blanche's deep blue eyes.
– I understand... We're more alike than it seems.
Blanche smiled, and the two girls shared a conspiratorial grin.