Chapter 4
“A Shattered World”
The hotel had brought the dead pigeons but did not file a claim for damages. Belmore’s persistent servants, who had threatened and pleaded without end, had eventually stopped coming altogether.
The convent appeared, at least outwardly, to have regained a semblance of peace.
“Where are you going, sisters?”
Lily’s eyes widened as the nuns began preparing to leave. She had secretly believed that Belmore had backed down or given up, so seeing the two of them suddenly going out felt strange.
“We’re going to see Lord Belmore. He hasn’t responded to our last proposal, and it seems he won’t be coming anymore,” one of the sisters said.
“Then I’ll go too,” Lily said, closing her book.
Brigida, however, stopped her firmly.
“This is our matter. What you’ve done—gathering information and documents—has been enough. I met with Member Phil Gordon; he confirmed there’s definitely a problem with Belmore.”
Even though Belmore had significant backing, members of parliament would still tread carefully if they got involved.
“It would be good if he lends his support to the convent,” Lily said.
“So, Lily, focus on your own work now. Next week, we’ll make clothes and shoes for the children… We can’t let the hotel make us miss anything important.”
Normally, they would have been practicing Christmas choir pieces and preparing for a play.
Lily nodded. She realized that the convent’s daily life had been on pause for quite some time.
When Lily returned to her seat, Sister Brigida smiled faintly.
“You won’t be too late.”
“Don’t worry and take care,” Lily said once more.
“I’m sorry for making you work so hard, Lily.”
Lily pressed her face to Brigida’s shoulder. The worn, soft fabric carried a faint smell of naphthalene.
“Ah, Lily.”
Brigida paused at the doorway, then suddenly turned back. She seemed to have something to say but hesitated.
“What is it, Sister?”
“It’s nothing… not now. We’ll speak slowly, later…”
Lily tilted her head at Brigida’s words.
“Don’t worry. Just go safely,” she insisted.
The nuns did not return until late.
Lily fed the children, read them stories, and put them to bed. Until the sisters returned, she organized the letters that had arrived at the convent and reopened the books she had folded away. From afar, the church bells tolled.
Deng—deng—deng—
Ten chimes rang before stopping.
Lily had almost given up waiting for the nuns and was about to climb to the attic.
Suddenly, the convent gate burst open.
Thinking the nuns had returned, Lily jumped to her feet—but a voice she did not expect called her outside.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Lily? Open the door! Something terrible has happened!”
Lily faced Mr. Oliver, pale and clutching his straw hat tightly.
“Mr. Oliver, what are you doing here at this hour?”
He stammered as he explained to Lily that something had happened to Sister Brigida.
“At the hospital…? A carriage accident?”
Lily repeated his words, her hands trembling as the lamp flickered ominously in them.
He wiped his tears on his dirty sleeve and urged her on.
Lily never remembered how she got to St. Rita’s Hospital that night.
“I thought the sisters were negotiating with Lord Belmore peacefully,” Mr. Oliver said.
According to him, the sisters hadn’t even been allowed inside the hotel. Belmore had left them outside until late at night. Sister Bolina had suggested they leave, but Brigida insisted on staying.
“Then the carriage… must have come too fast, and they didn’t see the sisters,” he continued.
The two had waited for Belmore in the dark—and suffered a terrible accident.
Mr. Oliver’s voice was husky. Lily nervously bit her nails. The carriage seemed to move too slowly.
“The sisters… they’re… okay, right?”
Lily asked in a strained voice.
Mr. Oliver did not answer. When they arrived at the hospital, Lily jumped down from the carriage.
“There. Lily.”
Mr. Oliver pointed shakily to the room. Then, for the first time, he spoke the words he had been unable to say in the cramped carriage.
“Sister Brigida… pushed Sister Bolina aside. But… Sister Brigida… could not avoid it…”
Before he finished speaking, Lily opened the hospital room door. The cold air and the smell of medicine stung her nose. A large bed covered in white sheets sat alone.
“Sister…?”
She couldn’t believe that the warmth she had felt from her that afternoon could harden so coldly. She reached to pull the sheet away, but someone grabbed her hand to stop her.
“It’s better if you don’t look.”
Lily sank to her knees and sobbed silently. She had never cried out loud. Tears streamed, but her grief remained inside; the words she wanted to say could not come out.
‘I shouldn’t have told her to go. I should have held her back. I’m sorry, Sister. I’m sorry.’
People gently pulled her away.
“No! Let me go! I’m staying here. I won’t leave her alone.”
“She’s gone, Lily. You must let go now…”
“It’s my fault. I asked Lord Belmore to persuade him. We could have just gone to East Longfellow. I insisted on fighting. I wanted to find my parents, and I… I—”
No matter how loudly Lily called, the sister beneath the white sheet did not move.
She was dragged away by force. Mr. Oliver held her tightly with tear-filled eyes.
“I never thought of myself as an orphan before,” Lily said dazedly.
“But now I know,” she continued.
Mr. Oliver’s shoulders shook, and tears fell.
“Lily… what are we to do now…? Such a terrible thing…”
In Lily’s mind, everything went cold. Once grief reaches its extreme, emotions simplify.
“Don’t cry, sir,” Lily said, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out a soft handkerchief.
It was the one given to her by the man she had met in the greenhouse. That memory already felt like ages ago.
Back then, life’s troubles were a cat killing a bird, a sleeve shortened because she couldn’t handle growth. She laughed at her past self.
She handed the handkerchief to Mr. Oliver and went to Sister Bolina’s hospital room.
Sister Brigida was buried at the Londinium public cemetery. The convent wanted to prepare a grave there, but Belmore refused.
Lily often spent long periods by the small, humble new grave beside the ones reserved for the nameless dead.
“Don’t come out yet, Sister,” she whispered.
After visiting the cemetery, Lily limped into the garden and saw Bolina slowly walking. She ran over.
“I need to practice walking too. I don’t want to use a cane at my age,” Bolina said, shaking her legs to keep steady. Lily followed closely behind.
“The authorities say that since the convent doesn’t have orphanage approval, all the children here must leave.”
Bolina couldn’t handle Belmore alone.
Walking slowly across the garden, Bolina spoke. Fallen leaves from last year crunched underfoot.
“The holy relics will stay here. Brigida’s gone, and now it seems right to leave when Belmore offers to build the new convent.”
Her voice trembled slightly. Lily’s hand tightened in support.
“If the orphanage approval is granted at East Longfellow… all the children here can move there too,” Lily said solemnly.
“And if we don’t go to East Longfellow?”
“We’d be illegally keeping the children. The younger ones would be sent to St. Mongo, and those over ten to vocational training.”
Who gave them this cruel choice between the convent and the children?
Brigida’s death clearly benefited someone, but to others, it was just an ordinary carriage accident—something that could happen anywhere, anytime.
If even Bolina had died, no one would have protected the orphans.
Lily could only nod. Bolina, reading Lily’s expression, spoke the hardest words.
“But, Lily… once the orphanage approval comes, I won’t be able to keep you. Those over nineteen must become independent.”
Lily stopped in her tracks. She brushed leaves away with the tip of her worn shoes. She had always known she would have to leave the convent someday, but never imagined it would be like this. She felt like a newly hatched wet bird—cold and alone.
After a brief silence, Lily spoke resolutely.
“Sister, I can’t go to East Longfellow.”
Her nose reddened, but she forced a calm voice. Since witnessing Brigida’s death, she had not shed a tear.
“I’ll wait for my parents here. If everyone moves to East Longfellow, no one will care for Brigida’s grave.”
Avoiding Bolina’s gaze, Lily looked toward the grand hotel building. Then she steadied her cracked voice and continued.
“I’ll be fine. I’m old enough to be independent anyway. I can live however I want with what I learned at the convent. Don’t worry about me, Sister.”
The two walked in silence across the narrow garden. Cruelly, lively violin music drifted from the hotel.
Like a tidal wave, Belmore swallowed them—Lily’s memories, family, and safety swept away at once.
The name Belmore was a disaster.
‘It was bound to happen someday.’
The days she had waited in front of the candy shop for her parents had finally run out. She had known the day would come—but never imagined it would end like this.
