1
Silvia
The room spun like a funnel cloud gliding across a field, picking up dirt and debris, while Roberta Flack’s melodic voice intensified the scene around me. “The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face” had been the song I would cry myself to sleep to at night. My mother made it my lullaby when I was a baby. After she died, it had brought me comfort and sadness.
Hearing it now, my stomach twisted into a F5 tornado and Roberta was the siren, alerting me to the coming destruction of my life.
Come to think of it, I’d never seen a tornado in person, only on the TV. The sisters faithfully tuned into the morning and evening news. They wanted to know what was happening in the world so they would know how best to pray. Because they would be so engrossed in current events, they hardly noticed me in the room, glued to the screen.
I hungered for knowledge and to see what was going on outside of the stone walls of the monastery. The older I got, the sneakier I became, and often eavesdropped on conversation not meant for me to hear.
And when I started doing online courses, because God forbid, I attended college in person, the world wide web brought me up to speed oneverythingI’d been sheltered from.
I read.
I watched.
I learned there was a lot of evil in the world.
Nausea hit hard and fast as I dialed into the nuns’ frantic whispers. The fear in their voices was palpable, so much so, I shook internally. Not even Roberta’s soothing melody could calm the holy terror ripping through my intestines.
If their plan crumbled, I would be forced to marry a man I didn’t know. I knew nothing about him other than my brother was building an empire with him. I didn’t even know my future husband’s name…
“Hurry, Lupita!” Sister Theresa nudged her. “Her hair doesn’t have to be perfect, just different enough to trick them.”
“Stop, Theresa. You’re making me nervous.” Sister Lupita’s hands quickly worked the water through my hair to rinse out the dye. Time was running out. She needed to finish.
It would be easier for me to washout my own hair, but I didn’t dare mutter a word. Why add to our stresses? As it was, their lives and mine were on the line.
And my hair? The shade of red they had chosen looked artificial. Synthetic. Plastic. I hated it, but I’d never tell them. They were doing the best they could with their limited resources. Maybe the color would grow on me. Eventually, hopefully, I could return to my natural, boring brown hair color.
I forced myself not to picture a terrified expression on Sister Theresa’s kind face, but I knew it was there. Her and Sister Lupita were doing everything possible to help me escape. They were aware of the deadly consequences for their actions, and yet, they were putting their lives on the line for me. For days, they had been plotting my get away. Just the two of them, doing all the dirty work so no one else would be blamed and punished.
Sister Theresa and Sister Lupita had been the only people in my life I could depend on foralmosta decade. Nine yearsexactly. From the moment I’d gotten my period in the eighth grade, at just thirteen years old, and attending Catholic school.
After I’d become a “woman,” my older brother Tonio had arranged for the nuns to care for me. He hadn’t wanted me exposed to sin and impure things. It was ironic really, considering people in town called him a gangster.
After Tonio’s death, hismurder, my other brother Miguel had kept me isolated. For my protection, he’d said. As the head of the family and my legal guardian, I had no choice but to do as he said.
I’d grown up not trusting anyone other than the nuns. Clearly, God had given me a brain to figure out who was good and who was evil. Sadly, Miguel wasn’t good.
My brother had spiraled out of control after Tonio died. I’d heard the nuns whispering about him being involved with the Bratva and Mafia. And now, he was forcing me to marry a contact of his to prove his loyalty.
I still couldn’t believe my brother was marrying me off to a stranger. I was the only family he had left, but apparently, he didn’t care about me.
Thankfully, the nuns loved me.
Except, betraying my brother and my future husband only meant one thing for any of us: death.
How could I let the two most trusted people in my life help me escape, when I knew they’d end up dead before the end of the day? On my wedding day?
Well, it wasn’t going to be the day I married a cruel mafia man because Sister Theresa and Sister Lupita wouldn’t allow it. Thank the Lord!
The idea of running away was theirs. The plans were theirs. The bright red hair was also theirs. They crafted each detail carefully, all to save me from a life of abuse and suffering.
I owe them everything.
Hot tears burned behind my eyes. If the nuns saw them, they’d scold me. Tell me to be strong and not to let my brother break me.
