"Because I was the one who hid it."
Aria's words hung in the air.
I stared at her, the letter trembling between my fingers.
"You hid a letter addressed to me? For how long?"
Aria stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
"Please, Taya. Let me explain."
"Explain what?" My voice cracked. "You knew about this key. You knew about the letter. You knew something about that photograph, and you've been standing beside me pretending you were just as confused as I was!"
"I was trying to protect you."
I laughed bitterly. "Everybody keeps saying that. Sister Catherine, Father Michael, even Sister Perry in her own twisted way. Is there anybody in this place who can tell me the truth?"
Aria lowered her eyes.
"Not everybody wants you dead, Taya."
My heart stumbled.
"Dead?"
She looked up quickly. "I didn't mean—"
"No. Finish what you were saying."
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded in the corridor.
We both froze.
Aria snatched the letter from my hand, folded it, and pushed it into the pocket of her dress.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"Trust me."
"That's exactly what I'm struggling to do!"
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Then a familiar voice spoke.
"Taya? Aria? Open this door."
Sister Catherine.
Relief washed over me, but Aria grabbed my wrist before I could move.
"Don't tell her about the letter," she whispered urgently.
I pulled my hand away.
"Why?"
"Because there's something you don't know about your godmother."
The knocking came again.
"Taya, my child. I know you're in there."
I stared at Aria, searching her face for a hint that she was lying.
But she looked terrified.
I finally opened the door.
Sister Catherine stood before us, her expression gentle as always. Yet her eyes moved immediately to Aria's pocket.
For one brief second, the kindness disappeared from her face.
Then she smiled.
"Taya, sweetheart," she said softly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Her gaze shifted to Aria.
"Give me the letter."
Aria went completely still.
I stepped between them.
"What letter?"
Sister Catherine sighed, and for the first time in my life, her voice sounded cold.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Taya."
I looked at the woman who had comforted me through nightmares, held my hand when I was sick, and called me her child for as long as I could remember.
Then I remembered the photograph.
The brass key.
Father Michael's words.
You weren't supposed to grow up here alone.
I swallowed hard.
"Who was the other little girl in that photograph?"
Sister Catherine's lips parted, but no answer came.
Instead, she reached for my hand.
"Some truths can destroy the people you love."
I stepped away from her.
"Then maybe I deserve to know them."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Sister Catherine looked at Aria and whispered something that made the blood drain from my friend's face.
"Tell her what happened to Esther."
Aria's eyes filled with tears.
And suddenly, I understood.
Whatever had happened to Esther three years ago wasn't just another mystery hidden inside the orphanage.
It was connected to me.
And Aria had known all along.