Episode 4.
A Broken World
The hotel didn’t demand compensation for the dead pigeon. Even Belmore’s servants, who had persistently threatened and persuaded, suddenly stopped coming around.
On the surface, the convent seemed to regain its old peace.
“Where are you going, Sisters?”
When the nuns started preparing to go out, Liri, who had been reading a book nearby, widened her eyes.
She had believed Belmore had backed off or given up, so their sudden outing felt strange.
“To meet Lord Belmore. We still haven’t answered his last offer, but he hasn’t come back since.”
“Then I’ll go too.”
Liri closed her book and stood up. But Sister Brigida firmly stopped her.
“This is our responsibility. You’ve already done enough by gathering information for us. I met with Congressman Phil Gordon, and he agreed that Belmore is indeed a problem.”
No matter how powerful Belmore’s background was, if the politicians spoke up, he would have to pay attention.
“I hope he’ll give strength to the convent,” Liri said.
“So, Liri, you should focus on your own duties now. Next week, we must make the children’s clothes and bonnets… We can’t let the hotel make us forget important things.”
It was originally time to begin choir practice and prepare the play for Christmas.
Hearing this, Liri nodded. She realized life in the convent had been on hold for quite a while.
When she sat back down, Sister Brigida smiled softly.
“We won’t be too long.”
“Don’t worry about things here. Please be careful on your way.”
“Sorry for troubling you so much, Liri.”
Liri buried her face against Brigida’s shoulder. The old, soft fabric carried a faint smell of mothballs.
“Ah, Liri.”
Just as she was about to leave through the front door, Brigida suddenly turned back. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something.
“What is it, Sister?”
“No, not now. I’ll tell you later… slowly.”
Liri tilted her head in confusion.
“Please don’t worry and just come back safely.”
She spoke again with determination.
—
The nuns didn’t return that night.
Liri fed the children, read them a story, and tucked them into bed. Then she sorted through the mail, unfolded a book, and listened to the distant church bell.
Dong— dong— dong—
It rang ten times, then stopped.
Just as she was about to give up waiting and head to the attic, the sound of the convent’s front gate burst open.
*Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!*
“Liri? Open up! Something terrible has happened!”
Liri hurried outside and saw old Oliver’s pale face under his straw hat.
“Uncle Oliver? What’s wrong at this hour?”
Stammering, he told her something had happened to Sister Brigida.
“At the hospital…? A carriage accident?”
Liri repeated his words in shock. The lamp in her trembling hand flickered dangerously.
Oliver wiped his tears with a dirty sleeve and urged her to hurry.
Later, Liri could never remember how she managed to reach St. Rita’s Hospital that night.
“I thought the Sisters were just talking with Lord Belmore,” she whispered.
But Oliver explained: the nuns hadn’t even been allowed inside the hotel. Belmore had kept them standing outside until late at night. Sister Bolina suggested they go back, but Brigida had insisted on waiting.
“And then a carriage… It came rushing and didn’t see them.”
In the darkness, the two nuns had suffered a terrible accident.
Oliver’s voice was hoarse. Liri bit her nails nervously. The carriage carrying them felt unbearably slow.
“The Sisters… they’ll be all right, won’t they?”
Her voice cracked, but Oliver gave no answer.
As soon as they reached the hospital, Liri jumped down from the carriage.
“There, Liri.”
Oliver, his hands shaking, pointed to a room. Only then did he finish what he had been holding back.
“Sister Brigida… pushed Sister Bolina out of the way. She… couldn’t save herself.”
Before he even finished, Liri opened the door. The smell of medicine filled the cold air. In the middle of the room was a bed covered with a large white sheet.
“Sister…?”
She couldn’t believe the warmth she had felt earlier that day had turned so cold. Her trembling hand reached for the sheet, but someone stopped her.
“It’s better not to look.”
Liri fell to her knees, silently crying. She had never cried out loud before. Her tears flowed, but her grief stayed locked inside.
‘I shouldn’t have told her to come back safely. I should’ve stopped her. Sister… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
People tried to pull her away.
“No! Let me stay! I don’t want to leave her alone!”
“Sister Brigida has passed away. Please… enough.”
“It’s my fault. I told her we should persuade Lord Belmore. We could’ve just gone to East Longfellow, but I said we should fight. I wanted to find my parents, and I dragged her into it…”
No matter how much she cried, the white sheet did not move.
Dragged away by rough hands, Liri collapsed into Oliver’s arms. His eyes were bloodshot as he held her.
“I never thought of myself as an orphan,” she said blankly.
“But now… now I know.”
Hearing this, Oliver’s shoulders shook as he wept.
“Liri… what do we do now? Such a cruel thing…”
But Liri’s mind felt strangely cold. Past the peak of sorrow, her emotions had grown sharp and simple.
“Don’t cry, Uncle,” she whispered.
She pulled out a soft handkerchief from her apron pocket. It was the one given to her by the man she’d met in the greenhouse. That day felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
Back then, her only worries were a dead bird carried in a cat’s mouth and sleeves too short from growth. She now laughed bitterly at her younger self.
Liri pressed the handkerchief into Oliver’s hands, then turned toward Sister Bolina’s hospital room.
—
Sister Brigida was buried in the Londinium public cemetery. They had wanted to give her a grave at the convent, but Belmore refused.
So she was laid to rest in a small, nameless grave among strangers. Liri often stayed there for hours.
“You shouldn’t be outside yet, Sister,” Liri said one day, returning from the cemetery to find Bolina limping in the garden.
“I have to practice walking again. I won’t carry a cane while I’m still strong.”
Her legs trembled, but she forced herself forward. Liri hurried to support her.
“The authorities say… since our convent isn’t registered as an orphanage, the children can’t stay here anymore.”
Bolina’s voice shook as she slowly walked through the garden. Last year’s fallen leaves rustled underfoot.
“The relic will stay here, but with Brigida gone… maybe it’s time to accept Belmore’s offer and move to East Longfellow.”
Her tone was heavy. Liri tightened her grip on her arm.
“If we move, the government will approve us as an orphanage. Then all the children can stay together.”
“And if we don’t?” Liri asked.
“Then it’s illegal to keep them. The younger ones will go to St. Mungo’s, and the older ones will be sent to training schools.”
It was a cruel choice: the convent or the orphans.
To others, Brigida’s death was just another carriage accident—an ordinary tragedy. But Liri knew who had gained from it.
If Bolina had died too, no one would be left to protect the children.
Liri could only nod silently. Then Bolina spoke the hardest words.
“And… Liri. If the orphanage is approved, we can’t keep you. Children over nineteen must live on their own.”
Liri froze. She kicked a leaf with the tip of her old shoe.
She had always known she would one day leave the convent, but she had never imagined it would be like this. She felt like a newborn bird, wet and shivering, pushed out too soon.
After a moment of silence, Liri lifted her head and spoke firmly.
“Sister, I can’t go to East Longfellow.”
Her nose was red, but her voice was steady. She hadn’t cried once since Brigida’s death.
“I’ll stay here and wait for my parents. And if everyone leaves, who will tend Sister Brigida’s grave?”
She avoided Bolina’s eyes and turned toward the glittering hotel. Steeling her trembling voice, she continued:
“I’ll be fine. I was meant to live on my own anyway. I can work, just like you taught me. Please don’t worry about me, Sister.”
The two of them walked quietly through the small garden. From the direction of the hotel, cheerful violin music floated in the air, mocking their grief.
Belmore was like a tidal wave that had swallowed everything—Liri’s memories, her family, and her only safe haven.
The name Belmore was a disaster.
‘Maybe it was bound to happen one day.’
The time she had spent waiting for her parents, like a child in front of a candy store, had finally run out. She had always known the day would come, but she never thought it would end like this.
—
