Sage
The orphan’s dormitory held twenty beds. The girls—for there were no boys—slept two or three together. I sat on the bed I shared with Willow, bent over a torn dress, stitching as best I could in the low light. Candles weren’t wasted on orphans, but Rosalind had permission to light one to make sure all the orphans were tucked in safely. She’d set it between me and Fern, and went to stand watch at the door, in case the nuns wandered past our quarters.
“I don’t know how it happened,” Aspen, Rosalind’s younger sister, stood biting her lip and clutching one of her hands. “Ivy dared me to climb the tree, but I was so careful…”
“Not to worry,” I murmured, squinting at the rip. “I’ll fix it up quick and no one will be the wiser. I’m not as good as Fern, but it’ll do.”
“I would’ve asked Fe
