they confronted him, it was only a matter of time before he came to find her at St. Matthew's. And then, she promised herself, she would tell Mother Gregoria everything that had happened, or as much of it as she needed to know. But she would not leave here with a trail of lies, like tin cans, rattling behind her.
But by morning, Gabriella was nearly blinded by pain and terror. And she had no idea what time they would come to try and make her go to Oklahoma. But that, at least, she knew she was not doing. She would refuse to leave here, and they could hardly carry her out in her nightgown.
She heard the others get up silently, and waited until they were gone, and when she stirred finally from her own bed, she saw that there was blood on the sheets, and she had no idea what to do about it. She went back to bed, crying softly, and lay there. And as the first light of day came up, after she had heard them singing in the chapel, she heard the door to her room open again, and saw Sister Emanuel looking down at her with immeasurable sorrow. She thought the old nun had even been crying.
“Mother Gregoria wants to see you now, Gabbie,” she said sadly. This was a sad day for all of them, saddest of all for Gabriella, who had so terribly betrayed them.
“I'm not going to Oklahoma,” she said hoarsely, not even sure she could get up. The pains had continued getting worse as she lay there.
“You'll have to come downstairs and talk to her about it.” She was afraid to say she couldn't, and waited instead until Sister Emanuel left the room, and then struggled into her clothes with enormous difficulty. It reminded her of the days when she'd been beaten, had been wracked with pain, and had to dress for her mother. And much to her own amazement, she found this was harder.
And as she dressed, the pains were worse than ever. She could barely get down the stairs, and she nearly had to crawl into the Mother Superior's office. But she forced herself to stand upright as she walked into the office, and was so blinded by pain she nearly fainted. And as she entered, Gabbie gave a visible start to see that there were two priests standing beside Mother Gregoria. They had been there for nearly an hour, discussing what they were going to say to Gabriella.
When the Mother Superior looked up at her, she had never seen Gabriella look worse. She was clearly in hell now, and it took all her restraint to keep from getting up and going to her.
“Father O'Brian and Father Dimeola have come to speak to you, Sister Bernadette,” she said, using the name of her postulancy so it would seem less personal to both of them, and not hurt her quite so much as she listened to what they had to say to her. But in spite of herself, her entire heart and soul went out silently to the child she had known and loved as Gabbie.
“Mother Gregoria will decide your fate later today,” Father O'Brian said, with a look of grief in his eyes, which took in nothing of Gabbie's situation. She seemed to be gasping for air, as the room closed in around her, and with each passing second she got paler. But as far as they were concerned, whatever agonies she suffered now, she deserved them. “But we have come to speak to you about Father Connors.” He had told them then, Gabbie thought with relief as she watched them with unseeing eyes. She was in such pain, she could barely hear them. “He has left a letter for you,” Father Dimeola said sadly, “explaining how he felt about the situation you lured him into.”
“Did he say that?” Gabbie looked shocked as she stared at him. Joe would never have said that about her. It was clearly their interpretation of the situation, and they had decided to blame her. She could hear a clock ticking on the wall somewhere and she wished they'd get through with it, so she could leave them.
“Father Connors did not say that precisely, but it's obvious from what he did say.”
“May I see the letter, please?” Gabbie held out a shaking hand with surprising dignity, and had they been able to admit it to her, or themselves, they admired her for it.