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Longings Are Purple Black: Book Three of the Hawk Island Series
Longings Are Purple Black: Book Three of the Hawk Island Series
Longings Are Purple Black: Book Three of the Hawk Island Series
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Longings Are Purple Black: Book Three of the Hawk Island Series

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Welcome back to Hawk Island and the village of Two Brooks.

While the sea slowly kisses the sand on the small beach of Saint Carlos, preparations for an Episcopal retreat begin while members of the Sacristy, a group of unconventional women who live in Two Brooks, set down a new path lined with quandaries and challenges.

Angela Matias is a cunning, intelligent, and persistent spitfire who feels compelled to choose just one of the three men she loves. While Ascendida struggles with the concept of forgiveness and her desire to love a man not a boy, Nascimento continues to grapple with her voyeurism. As Madalena must either forget Saul and move on with her life or bring him back, Dona Mafalda yearns to be loved, but cannot trust love to be kind. As the women take it upon themselves to solve a centuries-long mystery, they once again find themselves questioning the rules and norms of their island and inescapably facing the consequences.

In this third book of the Hawk Island series, members of the Sacristy must come to terms with decisions and actions that profoundly affect their lives.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 11, 2021
ISBN9781665711227
Longings Are Purple Black: Book Three of the Hawk Island Series
Author

Manuela DaCosta

Manuela DaCosta was born in Terceira, Azores, and immigrated to the United States as a young adult. She is the author of Os Sonhos de Dona Dores and Hawk Island. Manuela graduated from the University of Massachusetts and lives with her husband and cat in New England.

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    Longings Are Purple Black - Manuela DaCosta

    Copyright © 2021 Manuela DaCosta.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    Archway Publishing

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.archwaypublishing.com

    844-669-3957

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-6657-1121-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6657-1122-7 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2021917154

    Archway Publishing rev. date: 11/10/2021

    Contents

    Chapter 1 The Devil under the August Moon

    Chapter 2 Love Letters and Other Demons

    Chapter 3 I Came for You

    Chapter 4 Three Weeks in Lagrasse

    Chapter 5 Praying for an Empty Heart

    Chapter 6 Something Dangerous

    Chapter 7 The Show of the Century

    Chapter 8 Who is the Dead Man?

    Chapter 9 A Humiliating Homily

    Chapter 10 A Price for Everything

    Chapter 11 A Prayer for Road Kill

    Chapter 12 A Strange and Poorly Delivered Proposal

    Chapter 13 The Past, that Unkind Brute

    Chapter 14 Cold Feet and Warm Hearts

    Chapter 15 A light in the Attic

    Chapter 16 Like Thieves, They waited

    Chapter 17 A Golden Ending

    To Mother,

    who told me most of the stories

    I retell in my writings

    Longings are purple

    They’re pitch black in their sorrow

    Only those who loved much

    Know the sadness of tomorrow

    1

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    The Devil under the August Moon

    The moonlight was brilliant as it should be in August. The island’s suffocating heat and the sea’s musky smell left everyone exhausted. The sea roared furiously against the cliffs, and like belligerent lovers, the sea slowly kissed the sand on the small beach of Saint Carlos. The sea of the islands was like that – temperamental and treacherous.

    The crickets were barely singing in the gardens, the dogs didn’t bark, and the cats lay on the warm roads and terraces, utterly uninterested in the small critters teeming under the full moon.

    At the Saint Carlos villa, preparations for the Episcopal retreat were underway. One bishop, one archbishop, two monsignors, five priests, and five seminarians ready to be ordained were gathering to reflect on the crisis of Christianity. The retreat received generous coverage in the media. Hawk Island had never seen so much sanctity together for such a long period reflecting on such a pungent subject. Villa Marisol would soon be replete with saintly men. The housekeeper, Dona Serafina, demanded the bishop hire help for the retreat’s two weeks. The bishop was taken aback by Dona Serafina’s biting tone. She was always quiet and efficient, sometimes a little dry and often unfriendly, but never demanding. But demand she did, and the halls of Marisol were full of women anxious to be interviewed. The paper’s advertisement was simple: "Woman needed to clean, cook, wash clothes, and anything else asked of her during the Episcopal Retreat at Villa Marisol. The job will end by August 31. Applicants must be over thirty-five and devout Roman Catholics."

    Luciana looked critically at the advertisement and considered that one didn’t need to be a Roman Catholic to clean and cook for a house full of priests. But she wanted that job, and the only way she could get it was for Monsignor Inocente to intercede. She went to church and waited for the last sinner to leave and for the monsignor to step down from the confessional.

    The monsignor let out a heavy sigh of relief that everyone in Two Brooks had been confessed and penanced adequately with a minimum of drama. Lately, the world had mellowed, and he was grateful. He looked at Jesus Crucified, and Jesus, with big, round, wide eyes, stared him down from the cross. The monsignor found more comfort with Jesus’ mother, Our Lady of Lourdes, with flaming red hair and milky white skin. She also looked down at him, but there was a smile on her face, and the monsignor almost smiled back.

    Monsignor, Luciana said softly, I need to talk to you.

    A startled monsignor looked at Luciana as if she had poked him. Child, I didn’t know you were here! he said irritably.

    I need a favor from you, she said.

    And Luciana told a stupefied monsignor that she wanted the work at the Villa Marisol.

    The monsignor had listened many times to Luciana’s confessions about her demons and dreams. He knew that Luciana was much hurt and damaged by mindless acts of uncharitable men and much worse by irreverent, irresponsible, and selfish parents. She was carrying a burden too heavy for such a young heart. And here she was, asking him to help her heal.

    And so he did. The monsignor called the bishop and asked him to hire Luciana.

    The housekeeper had interviewed many women but hadn’t found anyone suitable for the position. Some women looked too young, others seemed too old, the majority didn’t look Roman Catholic enough, and the rest didn’t seem obedient. Dona Serafina was disheartened. She was looking through the applications when the bishop stood in front of her, looking down at her desk. He told her that he had found a woman to help her.

    She wasn’t surprised. A bishop could do whatever he wanted. This was his villa and his retreat. She had worked for him for 15 years since he became a bishop, and although he was kind and considerate to her, he was pretty much a monarch – his wishes were law.

    Dom Aurelio was a tall and handsome man. He came from a family of wealth and influence, from Seven Cities, the largest island of the Atlantis archipelago. He was used to commanding attention and respect. He was quiet and intelligent but had a deceitful demeanor about winning. Winning was everything to Dom Aurelio – even small arguments. So there was no need to argue about the merits of this woman he wanted to hire.

    Monsignor Inocente was the one out of the three monsignors on the island who wasn’t invited to the retreat. This was Dom Aurelio’s way to let the monsignor know about his displeasure with the Holy Ghost’s dispute in Two Brooks. In Dom Aurelio’s view, the monsignor had been negligent and let the whole process slip out of his control. Dom Aurelio hadn’t forgiven Monsignor Inocente for going to France to look after a troubled nephew, precisely when the village needed his guidance.

    This punishment from the bishop hurt Monsignor Inocente more than anyone else knew. After he decided to shut the monsignor out of the retreat, the bishop felt somewhat remorseful. Monsignor Inocente was a dedicated and loyal man, but a bishop, just like a king, never goes back on his decisions. So when Monsignor Inocente asked the bishop to hire a lonely and troubled girl from Two Brooks, the bishop took this opportunity to be magnanimous, and he said yes.

    Of course, the monsignor didn’t tell the bishop that Luciana was the girl who beat up the missionary priest from Guiney who had come to help with the Our Lady of Lourdes festivities. The bishop knew that a missionary priest from Guiney had had an altercation with a woman in Two Brooks. The priest from Guiney had said that a woman had refused the penance, and a few words were exchanged, nothing else. And that was right – Luciana had refused the penance – but only Luciana and the monsignor knew what the penance was.

    When the monsignor told Luciana that she had the job, she cried with joy, and then she walked home humming a love song and thinking about her lost soul.

    I’ll take everything with me,

    Nothing will stay behind

    I’ll take the sky, the dawn, the sea

    I will take your heart, your soul, your mind

    That afternoon Luciana told her parents and siblings that she was going to Saint Carlos to work for the Episcopal retreat.

    Her parents were puzzled when they found out that the monsignor had helped her get the job. The monsignor? Did he forget what she did to the missionary priest from Guiney? And how about the other things that happened to Luciana? Did the bishop know about those? But the essential thing for Luciana’s parents was that she would make money for them.

    Luciana left that afternoon. She didn’t say that the job would start in three days and let them believe that she was going early for training. Luciana was going to spend a couple of days in Dom Carlos’ apartment, a generous offer from her neighbor and friend Angela Matias.

    It was as if a cage door had been left open, and she flew out.

    Now she was behind the Villa Marisol, looking at the beach and the serene water glistening like a mantle of diamonds. She sat on the rocks thinking about Sebastião when night came silently, first with orange hues and finally with a navy blue sky. There was nothing more agonizing than betrayal – she had betrayed herself, and Sebastião had betrayed her. These thoughts weighed on Luciana so heavily that slowly her songs of joy started dying out, and she could only sing about the love that hurt. Singing made her feel good, and she murmured a song in the quietness of the beach:

    Little bird, don’t go to sleep

    Go away, go far, and high…

    The silence of the night extinguished her halfhearted song.

    Luciana walked back to Dom Carlos’ apartment, hiding in the shadows of the night, trying to escape the notice of errant soldiers who were out for a few aimless hours of leave.

    Later, safe in bed, she thought about Sebastião, Fernando Cardoso, the priest from Guiney, and her family.

    Luciana was the oldest of seven. She was a bright and thoughtful girl who loved school and books. Monsignor Inocente begged her parents to let her continue school. But her mother said no, she needed Luciana to help with the house and the kids. And Luciana cooked and cleaned, comforted crying babies, and fed hungry children. When she learned how to weave, her mother took all her earnings.

    Luciana felt that her parents were always expecting her to make sacrifices for the family. One time they almost forced her to marry a cousin from Canada. But Luciana said no, and spoke of love. She wanted to love the man she was going to marry. She didn’t love this cousin who she barely knew. When Luciana bewitched a detective investigating the theft and damaging of government property in Two Brooks, her parents reminded her about her insistence on love. You can love this man, and he will forget about the forbidden trees in the government forest.

    In Luciana’s heart, there was a ball of resentment growing every day until one day she would not be able to contain it and vomit that ball of bile and anger onto her parents.

    Luciana’s fight for love started when another detective–in a series of many–came to the village because of the illegal cutting of cedar trees from land owned by the government. But this detective, Sebastião Perdido, was young and ambitious, and he promised himself that he would bring to justice those pesky people from Two Brooks. They’ve been elusive for too many years and shamed too many detectives.

    One afternoon while going by Luciana’s house, he heard a song, and he followed the sound back to the shady and peaceful orchard at the edge of Luciana’s property. And it was there that he saw the large cedar logs ready to be debarked. But he also saw Luciana, and his heart lurched when she lifted her eyes from the kitten that she was lullabying to sleep.

    Luciana smiled at the young man looking at her so intently, and then she realized that she was standing next to the cedar logs that her brothers and father had illegally cut from government property and hidden in their orchard.

    It was not difficult for this young detective to conclude that he was looking at stolen government property.

    I could arrest you for the theft, he said.

    Luciana stared back at him.

    Do you know why those government parcels of land are protected by stone walls and why those trees cannot be cut? he asked.

    Because that type of cedar is almost extinct – it was overexploited for centuries and now is disappearing, she answered evenly.

    He smiled. Perfect, he said, a knowledgeable thief.

    I’m not a thief, she answered.

    Who then? he asked, amused.

    Why should I know? Luciana asked, placing the kitten on the ground.

    I need to talk to your father.

    He didn’t do it, she said.

    Sebastião lifted his eyebrows in a questioning expression.

    You can’t prove he did, she said.

    Sebastião let out a chuckle. The logs are on his property, he said.

    Luciana knew that her father was not a strong man. He was self-indulgent, easily fooled, and always dreaming up schemes and strategies to make money without doing much work. He was a dreamer – he was a child waiting for baby Jesus on Christmas Eve.

    And with excuses to talk with the family, the detective spoke with everyone in the house about the illegally harvested cedar logs in the orchard. They all denied it, and detective Perdido never insisted on the proof, but he always insisted on speaking with Luciana.

    Luciana was thrust in front of the detective as a source of distraction. She felt used and furious with her parents. Her mother said, If you can help your father and brothers, why wouldn’t you?

    Luciana talked with the detective, who didn’t talk about government property theft now secreted in her family’s orchard. He spoke of the world outside of the island, significant and purposeful, so different from the island’s lazy existence.

    We all need to leave this place, Luciana. If we live here all our lives, it will be the same as being born missing one of our senses. There is so much to see and learn beyond this horizon.

    Almost every day, the detective came by and sat with Luciana in her garden. He brought her chocolates, books and they talked for hours. Luciana’s mother, peeking from behind the curtains, smiled, convinced that Luciana was forging valuable connections they could use.

    Luciana had grown accustomed to his smile, to the dark softness of his eyes fringed with long eyelashes like a woman’s. And one day, he kissed her.

    Luciana had been kissed before by a Canadian man, Luther, who came back to the island to get a wife. He came into Luciana’s house and asked her parents for her hand in marriage before even asking her. He barely looked at Luciana sitting in the garden. Luther and Luciana’s parents set a wedding date without consulting her. When he found himself alone with Luciana, he kissed her deeply, trying to shove his tongue down her throat. She let out a shocked scream and fled. She didn’t expect such intrusion. She hated her parents and that overconfident Canadian trying to lick her tonsils. And she said no. She was not going to marry the Canadian.

    Her mother asked irately, No? What do you mean, no? He is a good man who wants to marry you and give us all a nice future in Canada, and you say no?

    Her father addressed her in a suffering tone. You said no to your cousin, you said no to João Cardoso who is now in America with Ilda, and you say no to this man… you are saying no to all of us, Luciana,

    I will marry for love. I will only marry for love, she said stubbornly.

    Her mother was already wearing the new blouse, a gift from the Canadian, her father had a brand-new wristwatch, her sisters were playing with Barbie dolls, and her brothers were making cane flutes with shiny new pocket knives. Would the Canadian take back the gifts? Would he come by and, in a gesture of frustration, yank the blouse off her mother’s back?

    With the detective’s mouth softly resting on hers, Luciana felt a very different thing than what she felt with Luther – she felt a wave of sweetness, and she closed her eyes, letting him explore her mouth. This was the love that Luciana fought for so tenaciously. She felt it. She knew what it was. Only love could feel that way.

    Luciana opened her eyes and fixed him with a stare.

    I want your love, and because I love you, I will let your father and brothers off the hook. He said with such intensity that she was breathless. I will marry you. I will give you my life.

    Sebastião had loved many women, but this quiet, pretty girl, with eyes dark as night, stirred something so sweet in him that all he could do was to love her.

    You would?

    I will, he promised.

    Luciana thought of all the times her family tried to pimp her off to one man or another for their own purposes. And she could only imagine all the times still to come. Here she was again being pimped off to this detective with a sweet mouth and gentle eyes. The difference was that she loved this detective.

    When? she asked.

    Sebastião straightened up, not expecting that answer. He stared at Luciana for a while.

    Are you serious? he asked.

    Yes. When will we marry?

    Detective Perdido set up an interview in the city with Luciana’s family. They would go down expecting to talk to him while he would be with Luciana in Two Brooks, talking about marriage and love.

    Luciana’s mother was wearing the blouse that Luther, the Canadian, had given her. They all left for the city, including the young ones, who missed school.

    And that day, Luciana was weaving when Sebastião came in. He sat behind her, the sun coming through the window and bathing her with light. He kissed her neck, and Luciana knelt on the floor, weak with his tenderness. She was vaguely aware that something was not right, and she said, No, let’s get married first.

    Sebastião stopped for a split second, and she sat up, looking around for her clothes. But just as fast, he pushed her back, gently but deliberately, Yes, you can. You promised, he said.

    And right there on the floor, they made love. It was such a surprising thing for Luciana to love this stranger, this man that she met only a few weeks ago. So this was love, she thought as Sebastião took her in his arms, trembling with desire and guilt.

    Sebastião held her tightly, and that felt right, familiar as if she had known him for thousands of years. But the feeling that something was not right kept gnawing at Luciana. She said, "They went to the city to see you. Do they know that you are not there?

    The chief of police will talk to them.

    What did you tell them? she asked, concerned.

    I told them to tell the truth, he answered.

    The truth? she asked in a panic. But the truth will get them arrested. They trusted you! Luciana said with a wave of regret rising to her throat.

    Luciana often dreamt of seeing her parents punished for their selfishness, self-absorption, self-indulgence, and immaturity. Still, now, all she could see was her mother crying and her tears falling on her new favorite blouse, and her father cleaning his glasses to hear better what the chief of police had to say.

    You and your family are going to jail, Mr. Lourenço, for cutting down the trees that belong to the government. Luciana imagined her sisters lost in the big interrogation rooms, not knowing what to do after the arrest, and her brothers crying apologies.

    Luciana turned around in Sebastião’s embrace and studied his face, You lied to me, she said. You had no intention of keeping your word.

    Sebastião closed his eyes. It was too painful to look at her face. They don’t deserve your loyalty, Luciana. Everything is about them. They don’t care what happens to you. They use you as a commodity.

    Luciana screamed, feeling used, dirty, and stupid. Raising both hands at once, she brought them down on his chest. He held her tightly while she struggled to free herself.

    I love you! he screamed back, "I love you! And he covered her mouth with his, forcing his body on hers to remind her of the joy they felt being part of each other.

    Luciana felt a wave of anger obliterate all the sweetness she had felt just a few moments ago. She fought him, but he persisted. He was not the same man she had given herself to. This man was like any mainlander who never let up until he got his way.

    When he let her go, Luciana picked her clothes off the floor and said, I will never forgive you, ever! You took away my dignity.

    She’d been lied to, she’d been used, and this time by love itself, and to think that she waited so long for it.

    56740.png

    Finally, someone was going to jail for the illegal harvest of cedars from government property. The police had been after Two Brooks for years, and now they had the culprits. Luciana’s family, who like fools, fell into the trap.

    Luciana was thinking about her family and the conversations they had regarding detective Perdido and the trees. You can save us, you know, her father had said with those sad little eyes behind thick glasses. Just be his girlfriend – he is a good-looking man.

    Make him believe that you like him until we sell the wood. Then you can let him go. We need to unload the trees first, her mother advised. We all have to make sacrifices for our family, you know.

    Luciana felt that her family climbed onto her shoulders every day and expected her to stand erect, like Atlas, with all of them weighing her down. She had felt for years her spine slowly curve with their weight. And now her spine finally broke, or worse, she consciously shrugged them off, and they fell in a heap crying for rescue.

    Luciana had run to Angela’s house, leaving Sebastião calling after her. She needed her help to get to the city. When she arrived at Angela’s, she told her what had happened with her family.

    The word went through the village like lightning and, in no time, there were cars, trucks, and horses, full of people going straight to the city. The others who could not fit into a car or truck waited impatiently for the bus.

    Sebastião drove himself down to the city, killing chickens and scaring dogs in his furious speeding car. When he got there, the Lourenço family had been interrogated and arrested. A social worker held two little girls with huge brown eyes, and one teenager with a runny nose was silently crying. As soon as the little girls saw Sebastião, they ran to him and hugged his legs, calling and asking for Luciana. Sebastião, without making eye contact, slowly disentangled himself from the little girls and went to see the chief of police.

    Good job, my boy! One mother, one father, and two sons! the chief said. Finally, we arrested someone from that fucking village. Imagine a full-out confession! He looked thoughtfully at Sebastião. You should feel thrilled! What’s the matter?

    Sebastião was pale. He sat down and asked, How many days?

    Days? Are you crazy? We are going to use those fools as a lesson for the rest of the island, the chief said. That village has been my crucifixion! And my good friend, Monsignor Inocente, will kill me, but I will use this as a lesson to everybody. One entire family caught like rabbits! And they will talk, they will tell me other names, they will.

    What happened next confirmed the chief’s opinion about the village of Two Brooks.

    Almost every citizen of that village was pouring into the station, and they stood quietly looking at the chief. One by one, they stepped forward and said, I cut down the trees. The chief listened to the confessions, including an old man who could hardly hold his cane, stating that he broke down the stone walls with his bare hands. The chief was furious. He didn’t have room to arrest everybody. He would be the country’s laughing stock when this episode leaked out – and it would leak out. He should have paid better attention when Dom Carlos had warned him about Two Brooks. A similar episode to this had happened before; Two Brooks were just repeating the play.

    Luciana, too, said she cut the trees.

    You’re lying! You didn’t cut the trees, Sebastião interrupted her in an agitated manner.

    If she was lying, her parents could be lying too. And all the other people, including Angela Matias, stating that they cut the trees. Was everybody lying?

    The chief stared at that spitfire, Angela Matias, the owner of Angela’s Inn. Dom Carlos often spoke about her, that she was cunning, intelligent, arresting, and persistent. She must have plotted the whole affair, and he resented her for creating such mayhem.

    Officer Baltazar! the chief yelled. Send everybody home!

    The next day when the chief went to Two Brooks to assess the situation, the tree trunks had disappeared, like magic. He sighed heavily and looked at the sea. Everything fades into the sea, he thought.

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    In Dom Carlos’ apartment, Luciana stretched in the wide bed and looked at the tall ceiling, white and pristine. No spiders, no cobwebs, no yellowed walls from the fireplaces and bread ovens. The city was so clean, so deliberate in its efficiency. She would find the means to stay in the city for good, stay away from her parents, who enslaved her with sacrifices and miracles, like the miracle of the trees. No one knew who had heaved the tree trunks into the ocean and her parents still believed that it had been a miracle from Our Lady of Lourdes. Always looking for the fantastic, her parents never saw the obvious.

    For the next three days before starting her job, Luciana went to the beach behind the villa to bathe. Then she sat on the highest rock and sang. The nights were quiet, and everything was so far away, except for the big empty villa.

    Little bird don’t go to sleep

    Go away, go far and high,

    Cause my sorrows are so deep

    I can kill you with a sigh

    I will love you one night

    But the second I will cry…

    On the day that Luciana started her job at the villa, she was met by Dona Serafina, the tall and slender housekeeper. Dona Serafina was in her early forties, maybe late thirties, it was hard to say. Years of servitude to the clergy rendered her almost invisible. Dona Serafina was like a well-oiled machine that worked as it should and never complained. Her efficiency was unparalleled.

    Luciana entered the atrium of the villa, a vast space with arched windows and potted plants. The floor was shining with clean tiles waxed to a perfect hue of dark terracotta. Dona Serafina sat at a long dark table, like the one the monsignor had in the sacristy. She had told Luciana to be at the villa by five o’clock in the morning. A minute before five, Luciana gingerly held the door knocker, a cross of heavy bronze. Timidly she knocked three times.

    Dona Serafina felt assaulted by the audacity of the girl standing in front of her. The job required a much older woman and certainly not one so beautiful. But the decision had been made by the bishop. The interviews had been pure theatre.

    Dona Serafina was looking for a defect, for a strong enough reason to go to the bishop and say that Luciana Lourenço would not work out. But what she saw was a quiet, almost sad girl looking at the floor, saying ‘Yes, Dona Serafina.’

    Look at me, girl! Dona Serafina ordered impatiently.

    Luciana looked at a stern face, unlined but unvisited by joy. There were resentments and secrets in that face. Sometimes it was hard to look people in the eyes. Which eye should she look at? A nervous tick was bothering Dona Serafina’s right eye, and Luciana decided on that one. The more Luciana looked at Dona Serafina, the more the eye winked. That nervous tick was denouncing years of nerves, of dreams undone, of arrested passions, of self-denial.

    Dona Serafina had served priests, monsignors, and archbishops since she was a young girl. First, she was sacrificed to her brother’s vocation, who wanted to be a priest and escape field labor from sun up to sundown, and second, she came to the bishop because she was efficient, quiet, and discreet. And all that she had to show for her life was a nervous tick and a bitter heart.

    Dona Serafina could not count how many times she fell in love, either with a young priest or an older seminarian; she’d always been in love with someone from the church. And one day, she thought she found love. And with a burdened heart, she realized that it wasn’t

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