Mother Superior’s life is this orphanage. She rarely ventures outside of these walls. She doesn’t watch TV and only reads the paper occasionally. She doesn’t know who the real Aleksei Popov is in a world that is not hers. But in her world, even though I am flawed, she loves me, nonetheless.
Coming to a stand, I pick up the duffel, my dirty money having no place in her home. “I will stay in the basement,” I say as I know there are no rooms free.
She wants to argue because the basement is full of old furniture and supplies, but she knows it’s an argument she won’t win. “Renata may stay in Sister Julia’s room. She’s visiting her sick mother and won’t be back for a few weeks.”
“Thank you again, Mother Superior.” Thanking her seems so mediocre in light of what she’s doing for me. But she doe
