Vivienne
After seeing the call from Sister Mary, I arrived at the orphanage early the next morning. By the time I reached the familiar gates, my chest felt like it had been hollowed out.
The moment I stepped into the small, quiet room where they had laid her, the breath left my lungs.
Sister Martha looked so peaceful, as if she were sleeping, her hands folded over her chest. But the sight of her still, pale face broke the last of my composure.
"Sister..." I burst into tears as I collapsed onto my knees beside her.
I wept until my throat burned and the memories of her kindness rushed into my head like a flood.
I remembered how she had been the only one to hold me when I had nightmares as a child, how she had patched up my scraped knees, and how she had shared her own meager meals with me when the orphanage supplies ran low. She was the one who had taught me I was worthy of love—and now she was gone.
"Why didn't you call me?" I sobbed, clutching the edge of the white sheet covering her. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would have come. I would have stayed by your side. Why did you leave me all alone?"
The silence of the room was the only answer I got.
I wished at that moment that she would rise and tell me everything was going to be fine, tell me it was all a prank, and she wasn't dead, but I could only wish.
"Sister Martha, thank you for all you have done," I said and lowered my head to the ground. "Thank you," I muttered and then raised my head, sniffling.
I stood up and leaned forward, hugging her cold, still body one last time, burying my face against her shoulder as I whispered a final, tearful goodbye.
When I finally pulled away, my eyes were swollen, and my heart felt like it was ripped apart. My legs shook terribly as I turned toward Sister Mary, who was standing by the door with a somber expression.
"Come here, child." She opened her arms, and I embraced her tightly. "Everything is going to be fine," she assured me.
After a moment, Sister Mary led me down the narrow, creaking hallway to the tiny room where I had grown up; it was exactly as I remembered, with the bunk beds I had to share with other kids. Sister Mary reached into the small wardrobe and pulled out a simple blue metal box. She held it out to me with trembling hands. "She wanted you to have this, Vivienne. She made me promise to give it to you only after she was gone."
I took the box from her, my fingers trembling as I felt the old weight of it. It was a heavy, weathered blue, and as I clutched it to my chest, it felt like the last piece of her I had left.
"When is the funeral?" I asked.
Sister Mary let out a long, heavy sigh and looked down at the floor. "We are still trying to figure that out. Her body will be sent to the morgue until we have it figured out. The costs... well, things have been difficult lately."
"What happened?"My voice cracked as I asked her. "How could things be this difficult? "
Sister Mary didn't answer right away. Instead, she slowly walked towards the window, and I followed her gaze out into the courtyard, where a group of younger children were chasing each other, their laughter sounding painfully out of place.
A few of the other sisters were moving among them, their faces etched with the same weary sadness I saw in Sister Mary.
"We are losing this place, Vivienne," Sister Mary said softly, her back still to me. "There is no way to bury Sister Martha properly. She wanted so badly to be buried here, on this land, but we don't even have the right to the soil anymore. That worry... it was one of the reasons she grew so sick. She carried the weight of this orphanage on her shoulders until her heart simply couldn't take it."
I felt a cold chill run down my spine as I listened to the strange news. "Losing the orphanage? How?"
"Sister Martha did her best," Sister Mary continued, her voice trembling. "She fought every legal battle, she wrote every letter, but she couldn't save us—couldn't save this place. Now, I have no idea where everyone will go. These children... the sisters who have lived here for decades..." She paused and sighed. "We will be scattered to the wind. This place has existed for more than a hundred years, and now it is simply going to be gone."
I stepped forward, my hand tightening around the blue box. "Who is doing this? Who wants to take this land? I... I might be able to help. I can talk to Roman. My husband's company is powerful; he has connections. He wouldn't let an orphanage be destroyed."
Sister Mary finally turned away from the window, and the look in her eyes wasn't of hope; even my assuring words didn't make her happy. Her eyes were hollow. She heaved a deep, ragged sigh that seemed to age her by ten years.
"It is your husband's company, Vivienne," she whispered. "It was Roman West who signed the orders. He is the one who wants us off this property to make room for a new luxury development."
"What..." I stammered, shocked to hear that coming from her. "Roman knows I grew up here. He knows how much this place means to me. There must be a mistake. It must be another West, and..."
Sister Mary said no words; she just walked out of the room.
"Where are you going?" I asked as I watched her go, but it didn't take a moment before she returned holding a thick manila envelope. She handed it to me.
With shaking hands, I dropped the box in my lap and pulled out the document inside the envelope. I didn't have to read past the first page because, in bold letters at the top of the quit notice, was the name of Roman's corporation. At the bottom of the last page was a familiar ink I had seen a thousand times.
Roman's signature.
"It can't be," I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips as I gasped, staring at the paper until the letters blurred before my eyes. My hands shook so violently that the document rattled in my hand. "Roman wouldn't... he knows this is my home."
"It is real, Vivienne. You are staring at the paper," Sister Mary said. "He is the one who wanted us gone. Sister Martha had gone to his office multiple times to meet with him, but every time she was turned down and never met him. And now, we only have two weeks left before they come chasing us out." Sister Mary placed a hand on my shoulder. "Sister Martha did all she could, and now that she has passed, you are our only hope. We can't lose this place, Vivienne."
"I am begging you," she said, tears streaming down her face. "Save the orphanage. The children—hundreds of them—have nowhere to go. Almost all the sisters grew up here. This is their home. Sister Martha's final wish was for us all to remain here. Please..." She sniffled.
I looked out the window when I heard the children's voices outside. Just like me, they all had a story of why they were there, and I wasn't going to allow it to end like this. I heaved a deep sigh and looked into Sister Mary's gray eyes, trying to find a strength I wasn't sure I possessed.
"I will do my best," I told her. "I am going to help everyone. I will speak to Roman. He... he has to listen to me. This isn't just business; it's my life."
I squeezed her hands back, trying to offer comfort. "Don't lose hope yet. Wait and expect good news from me. I won't let this place fall."