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144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2019
Her father did not go to church but he prayed constantly. Little whisper prayers he said while driving or standing in the supermarket or at night before he went to bed. Dolores sometimes watched him through the crack of the bedroom door. That large man, on his knees, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped together, whispering. It was a powerful image. A man who could sometimes scare his children, now kneeling on the ground, surrendering to something higher.
Dolores, the nuns had said. It was a name that referred to aches and pains. Our Lady of Sorrows. (p.1)
Inside in the convent, on the wall in the dining room, there is a large sign that reads 'Silentium.' The rule is strictly enforced. If necessary, the nuns speak using coded gestures of the hand. They motion for soup or for extra bread. Any unnecessary noise is considered vulgar. The sound of a spoon hitting the side of a bowl. Heavy footsteps in the corridors. The legs of a chair dragged across the floor. Once, when Dolores accidentally slammed the large wooden door on her way into the dining room, some of the nuns dropped to their knees. Pure horror flashed across their faces. It was as if a bomb had fallen from the sky. One nun stood frozen in the middle of the room with her hands covering her ears. (p. 51)