Chapter Eight“I have been here for five days,” Azalea said to herself as the sun rose to illuminate her bare cell with a glimmer of gold.
It might have been five months, five years, or even five centuries.
She felt as if she had ceased to exist, as if she were living in a void where there was no time and no future.
The first night, when she had been left alone in the cell, she had cried desperately, conscious that she was not only frightened but also losing hope.
How could she ever be saved, ever be rescued from this prison that was more inviolable than any gaol could be?
She knew that the Nuns who entered an enclosed Order were forgotten by the world, and once they passed through the door of the Convent they had no further contact with their relations or their friends.
Her uncle and
