I stared at Father Michael.
"What do you mean I wasn't supposed to grow up here alone?"
He glanced at Sister Catherine, but she refused to meet his eyes.
"Answer me!" I demanded.
"Taya, some truths are complicated," he said quietly.
"Then explain them to me!"
He sighed.
"The day you were brought here, you weren't the only child involved."
My heart began to pound.
"The other girl in the photograph?"
Neither of them answered.
I turned to Sister Catherine, the woman I'd trusted for as long as I could remember.
"Godmother, please. Do you know who she is?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Yes, my child."
"Then tell me!"
She opened her mouth, but Father Michael interrupted.
"Not here. Not now."
I turned on him.
"You sprinkled water on my head and told me to pray when I came to you about Sister Perry. I trusted you! And now you're standing here telling me that everyone has been hiding something from me?"
His expression hardened.
"Be careful, Taya. You don't know what you're accusing people of."
"And you don't know how tired I am of being treated like a child!"
I snatched the photograph from the table and turned toward the door.
"Taya, wait!" Sister Catherine called.
I stopped.
She approached me slowly and pressed something into my palm.
A small brass key.
"Keep this safe," she whispered. "And don't let Sister Perry see it."
I looked at the key, confused.
"What does it open?"
Her eyes shifted toward Father Michael.
"The place where the truth about your childhood was hidden."
Before I could ask another question, footsteps sounded outside the chapel.
Sister Perry appeared in the doorway.
Her gaze fell on the photograph in my hand, then moved to the key.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear on her face.
"Where did you get that?" she demanded.
I closed my fingers around the key.
Sister Catherine stepped between us.
But Sister Perry wasn't looking at her anymore.
She was staring directly at me.
"Taya, give me that key. You have no idea what your godmother has just done."
And judging by the look on Father Michael's face, I was beginning to suspect that neither did I.