that you must leave us. Whatever happened between you and… Father Connors,” the older woman felt as though she were fighting for air, but she knew she could not turn back now, despite Gabriella's sudden look of horror. “Whatever happened, or didn't, there is a crack now in the walls we built around you. It will never be the same again, it will never be repaired. The crack will only grow wider. And perhaps what you did, what you shared with him, is a sign that you did not belong here. Perhaps we pushed you to it, perhaps you stayed here out of fear, my child—”
“No, Mother, no!” Gabriella was quick to interrupt her. “I love it here, I always have. I want to stay here!” Her voice had risen alarmingly, she was fighting for her life now. But Mother Gregoria forced herself to stay calm and to go on talking. They had to reach the end of the road now, and she wanted to do it quickly.
“You cannot stay here, my child. The doors of St. Matthew's are closed to you forever. Not our hearts, or our souls. I will pray for you until the day I die. But you must go now. You will go to the robing room after you leave here, and change your clothes. You will be given two dresses, and the shoes you are wearing. The archbishop is allowing us to give you a hundred dollars,” and her voice trembled alarmingly as she said it, but she steeled herself to go on, remembering the day Gabriella had come here, with eyes filled with terror. Mother Gregoria saw the same look in her eyes now, but she could no longer help her, only love her. “And I am giving you four hundred dollars of my own. You must find a place to live, and a job. There are many things you can do. God has given you intelligence and a good heart, and He will protect you. And you have a tremendous gift in your writing. You must use it well, and perhaps one day you will bring great pleasure to others. But you must take care of yourself now. Make wise decisions, keep yourself out of harm's way, and know that wherever you go, my child, you take our prayers with you. What you did was wrong, Gabriella, very wrong, but you have paid a high price for it. You must forgive yourself now,” she said in barely more than a whisper, holding a hand out to her to touch the girl she loved so much for the last time now. “You must forgive yourself, my child… as I do…”
Gabriella put her head down on the desk and sobbed, clutching the old nun's hand, unable to believe that she had to leave her. This was the only real home she had ever known, the only real mother she'd ever had, the only place where she had found safety. But she had betrayed them, she had broken their trust ultimately, and now, the apple having been eaten to the core, the snake had won, and she had to leave the Garden of Eden.
“I can't leave you,” she sobbed, begging for mercy.
“You must. We have no choice now. It is only fair to the others. You cannot live among them as you did before, after all that has happened.”
“I swear I'll never tell them.”
“But they know. In their hearts, they all know that something terrible has happened, no matter how we try to protect them from it. And if you stayed, it would never be the same for you again, you would always feel that you had betrayed them, and one day you would hate them and yourself for it.”
“I already hate myself,” she said, choking back sobs. She had killed the only man she'd ever loved, and lost his baby. And now she had to lose all the rest. Mother Gregoria was forcing her to leave, and the realization of all she had lost, and was about to lose again, filled her with a terror so uncontrollable, she wanted it to kill her. But the worst fear of all was that it wouldn't.
“Gabriella,” Mother Gregoria said quietly, rising to her feet as she had the first time they met. It was a terrible day for both of them, as she looked down at Gabriella now, shaking visibly as she stood there. “You must go now.” Gabbie was stunned into silence as Mother Gregoria handed her