“No.”
The admission hung in the car.
Mother Caridad looked out the window, allowing the conversation to remain between them.
Esperanza closed her hand around the white stone.
“I trusted you.”
“I know.”
“That is not an accusation.”
“It should be.”
Esperanza shook her head.
“It is a fact.”
Doctor Paloma swallowed.
“I am sorry.”
Esperanza did not answer immediately.
Outside, the road climbed through a line of olive trees.
At last, she said, “I do not know yet what forgiveness will require.”
Paloma nodded.
“I understand.”
“But I do know this: I need you to stop deciding what I can bear.”
The doctor’s eyes shone in the mirror.
“I will.”
It was not absolution.
But it was the first honest promise between them.
San Aurelio was smaller than Mother Caridad expected.
The town rested near the sea, though the water was hidden behind a line of pale cliffs. Its streets were narrow, its houses painted in faded blues and yellows. Laundry moved in the breeze above small courtyards.
