didn’t need to use Anabel as a pawn in your scheme. You sent her to her death.” Her accusation was low. Pitiless.
“Celine!” Pippa chastised softly.
In the deepest recesses of Celine’s mind, she knew how unfair it was to accuse the Mother Superior of being responsible for Anabel’s death. But her heart demanded answers. The wound around it continued to grow with each passing moment, the pain searing through her chest, burning into her lungs. She had to put a stop to it. To all of it.
“Why?” Celine repeated.
“I—” The Mother Superior hesitated, her expression oddly uncertain. Then her frown turned severe, the lines around her mouth deepening. Celine braced herself for a harsh rebuke.
“I am human,” the Mother Superior said simply. “As such, I made a mistake.”
Celine shook her head. “That’s not an answer. Please”—she stood at once, drops of rain cascading from the tip of her nose—“help me understand. I need to understand why.”
The Mother Superior considered Celine, her eyes flitting to and fro. “Because I saw in you the kind of reckless spirit that craves danger, and I desired proof. A weed left to flourish is the death of the entire garden.”
The ache in Celine’s chest intensified. “So you sent a young girl out by herself, simply to prove I was rotten to the core? Why didn’t you just ask me? Je vous l’aurait dis, Mère Supérieure!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides.
The Mother Superior took hold of Celine’s left wrist, gripping it tightly, pulling her closer. For a breath of time, Celine thought the matron might strike her. But then the elder woman’s grey brows gathered, her features pinching with sorrow. “You are in pain right now, Mademoiselle Rousseau,” she said gently. “I, too, am in pain. I, too, long to point a finger of blame. But it serves no purpose now. I entreat you to sit with your pain. To let it pass, not to lash out. It will do you no good.” She released her grip on Celine’s wrist. “Trust in this important lesson I learned long ago: Rage is a moment. Regret is forever.”
Celine struggled to marshal her fury. She wasn’t ready to relinquish her rage and succumb to the sadness that was sure to follow. If she did, it meant she accepted everything that had happened tonight. She didn’t want to accept it. She wanted to fight it. To shatter its truth into oblivion.
But the Mother Superior was right. What good did it do to rail against an elderly woman? Anabel and William had not died because of the Mother Superior.
They’d died because of her.
Celine blinked back the rain. Forced the tension in her shoulders to abate. “Yes, Mère Supérieure.” She swallowed. Realized she was shivering and that her temple throbbed. “I apologize for my behavior. It won’t happen again.”
The Mother Superior nodded. “Are you in need of anything right now? Is there anything I might provide for you?”
Celine shook her head.
A sigh fell from the Mother Superior’s lips. “Should you change your mind at any time—now or in the future—do not hesitate to tell me. I am here to assist you in any way.” She paused to hold Celine’s gaze, her features somber. “The next few days will not be easy ones, my child.”
Celine nodded, already knowing what the Mother Superior intended to say next.
“Many of my fellow sisters have come to me in the last hour,” the Mother Superior continued in a hushed tone. “The consensus is that it might be time for us to find you alternate lodging.”
Celine kept nodding.
The Mother Superior reached out once more. This time she took hold of Celine’s hand, her touch gentle and warm, despite the coolness of the rain. “I’ve already begun making inquiries. We will not throw you out on the street, and it is not necessary for you to leave tonight. It is simply no longer safe for you to stay here.” She paused. “Please know this is not at all what we want to do. But I agree it is the best course of action. For the sake of all who remain within these walls.”
“A weed left to flourish is the death of the entire garden,” Celine said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
With another sigh, the Mother Superior nodded. Squeezed Celine’s hand. And let go.
Straightening her spine, Celine met the matron’s wrinkled gaze. “Thank you for giving me a chance to begin my life in a new world, Mère Supérieure. I . . . don’t know what