The heavy and rhythmic thumps of hooves echoed on the stone walls of the Sainte Anne Abbey as a black carriage made its way through its outer gates. The vehicle followed the circular path that led to the front of the main building.

 A group of nuns were taking care of the garden when the carriage made its entrance, and all stopped their activity to look at the rare occurrence. Then, after a minute or two, they resumed their duties. Except one.

“Are we expecting someone?” a young nun wondered out loud.

Her big hazel eyes kept following the new arrival; she wiped her face with the back of her hand and took one step to have a better look.

“I don’t know,” said another nun in a grunt. “Go back to work, Annabelle.”

The young girl did not listen, she kept her body and eyes straight forward. The carriage finally stopped its course, and the driver got down from his seat and opened the door for the clients inside.

The hem of a dark brown dress appeared at the threshold before a middle-aged woman stepped down and landed on the gravel below. Even from a distance, the girl named Annabelle could see that it was a wealthy lady from her posture and the severity of her facial expression; a haughty demeanor that only the bourgeois would have.

Following that lady, another dress appeared in the frame of the carriage door, this time as black as the vehicle itself. Annabelle expected another snobbish, conceited person to go out, but was contradicted when a frail silhouette entered her field of vision. From a distance, Annabelle could tell that it was a young girl, about the same age as her. Her honey blond hair contrasted with her dark clothes. The girl had her head to the ground as she followed the older woman up the stairs of the convent.

Mother Marguerite, the head-mother, got out to greet the two women and gestured them in. Annabelle wanted to follow them too, taking another step, but a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Annabelle! Will you stop ogling and finish your work, for Christ’s sake!” Sister Jeanne shouted.

The nun, a little older than Annabelle, had never been kind to the girl, who suspected jealousy was the cause. She smirked and went back to cutting the rose bushes after glancing one last time at the spot the pale girl had been moments before. Annabelle hoped that she would get a chance to see her again.

Noon came upon the group of gardeners, who tidied their tools, and they all headed towards the refectory to get lunch.

“Annabelle!” a voice called as the girl was about to enter the room.

She swirled around and was met by Mother Sylvie, one of the convent’s chiefs, if you could call it that way.

“Good day, mother.” Annabelle greeted her with a head bow.

“You as well.” The older nun curtly replied. “I need you to come with me, Annabelle.”

The latter could not even utter a word as the Mother turned around and started walking. Annabelle followed suit.

“What did I do this time?” she pondered as they approached the Head-mother’s office.

Mother Sylvie knocked on the heavy wooden door and swung it open after being allowed to. She let Annabelle step in and closed the door after her. Annabelle’s eyes got wide when she saw the wealthy lady and the blond girl sitting in the chairs facing the desk.

“Good afternoon, sister Annabelle.” Head-mother Marguerite said. The old nun was standing behind the modest oak desk, her hands clasped together as usual. Her blue eyes locked on the girl’s in a severe stare. 

Annabelle bowed her head in response, “Good blessed day, Head-mother.”

She could not help but shoot glances at the two guests sitting in their seats. 

Head-mother Marguerite cleared her throat, “This is Lady de Mongeois. She has granted us the privilege to take in her dear daughter, Sophie.”

“Pleased to meet you, my ladies.” Annabelle said with a bow.

Her name is Sophie then? It sure suit her well. Annabelle thought as she stared at the elegant profile of the de Mongeois maiden. The girl had not moved an inch since Annabelle had come in the office, staring straight outside the small window behind the desk.

“I called you here because Sophie will stay with you from now on, so I want you to aid her get used to her new environment and to the life of the convent.”

The words took a few seconds to sink in.

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you do not have a roommate yet, correct?” Mother Marguerite asked.

“That’s right.”

“You are also one of the oldest nuns in this convent, so I trust that you will know to teach her well.”

Annabelle was very surprised by this sudden vote of confidence; she was not exactly what you would call a model nun, on the contrary, so being given such responsibilities was unheard of. What struck her as well was that a well-born young lady like Sophie would share a room with a low-born such as herself… It never happened like this usually.

But who was she to question her superior? She nodded.

“Of course, Head-mother.”

“Very well!” Mother Marguerite nodded in return. “I believe we have discussed everything, Lady de Mongeois?”

“We have indeed!” the haughty lady replied. She stood from her chair and turned around to stand in front of Annabelle. Her eyes peered at her from head to bottom, and Annabelle could see the corner of the lady’s mouth curl with contempt.

“Will you show your room to Sophie, Annabelle?” the Head-mother said as she stepped around her desk.

“Of course.”

The group of three stepped out of the office. The young lady, Sophie, still had her head to the ground. Annabelle wondered if she was mute, or mentally ill.

“Where to then?” Lady de Mongeois inquired; her arms crossed on her chest.

Annabelle cowled a little under her hostile gaze, “This way. F-follow me please.”

They walked through the long corridors that led to the dormitory. The two women behind her had not spoken to one another ever since she had stepped in the Head-mother’s office. The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable that Annabelle felt cold goosebumps crawl at the back of her neck. She hurried her steps.

“Here we are!” Annabelle exclaimed when they finally arrived in front of her room.

She grabbed the handle of the door and quickly opened it. She took a few steps in and turned around to face the two ladies, forcing a smile on her face.

“I hope you will not be too appalled by the plainness of these abodes!” she said apologetically. “Monastic life is a very modest one.”

Lady de Mongeois moved around a bit, taking the room in. She had a grin on her face that irked Annabelle.

“I think modesty is a perfectly fine quality to live in, don’t you think, Sophie?” she asked, turning her head to the side.

 The young lady had come inside as well, and, for the first time since she got here, raised her face up to look around. Annabelle could finally see her facial features better: a pale complexion that made her resemble a porcelain doll, big blue eyes, a cute nose, and small, thin lips that had a natural red tint to them.

Annabelle gaped at her; she could feel her heart beat faster in her chest. She had never met someone so beautiful. Why would such a lovely girl end up here in this old and cold convent, she thought.

“Y-yes, Mother.” Sophie said in a small voice.

Said voice snapped Annabelle out of her reverie. Had she heard the young lady’s voice at last?! She continued to stare at Sophie in a not-so-subtle way, forcing the other girl to meet her gaze. A brief but intense connection. Annabelle felt the hair on her arms stand.

The contact was cut short when Lady de Mongeois snorted and headed to the door of the room.

“I think I have seen enough. I shall go back now,” she said. “Could you take me to my carriage, young lady?”

“Oh, of course!” Annabelle answered.

She took a glance at Sophie, who looked distressed. But when Sophie noticed her, she shook her head and followed her mother. The walk to the gates of the convent was quick but still heavily silent. There was definitely something wrong between these two ladies…

The carriage was still there, the chauffeur holding the door open for Lady de Mongeois to climb in. The latter halted her steps and turn to face Sophie.

“Well… this is where we part, my dear daughter.” The lady said in a nonchalant voice.

“Y-yes, mother.”

The girl’s eyes seemed to be pleading to go home with her, and Annabelle noticed that she was shaking from head to toe. The lady leaned forward to give a kiss on Sophie’s cheek, then uttered some words.

“Please do not stir any trouble in there. I swear you will regret it if I am summoned here because of your stupid acts!”

Annabelle did not intend to listen in but had a good hearing; she frowned at the words, as cold as the blade of a knife. How could a mother speak so cruelly to her child? Even her own mother never said something so mean spirited. It was now clear that Sophie was fighting back her tears. Her eyes were wide, she was shaking even more strongly when her lady mother swirled around and climbed the two steps inside the carriage. Lady de Mongeois sat on the seats and glanced sideways, through the window, after the driver had closed the door.

“Goodbye, Sophie.”

 The car departed right after the woman had spitted those last words, leaving Annabelle and Sophie alone in the forecourt. The latter started to walk, as if to follow the carriage that was slowly leaving the convent.

“Mother…” Annabelle heard Sophie murmur. “Don’t go!”

Then the vehicle disappeared through the big archway gate, the sound of the hooves and wheels progressively thinning. Sophie stood motionless in the middle of the court, staring at the now empty space as ominous clouds darkened the sky above them.