The Blue Dress Sisters

CHAPTER 38: PRAYERS

"It's a two-day journey there and two days back," Massimo pointed out, his worry evident. "Don't you think that's too much time? By then, others might start showing symptoms, and it could be too late."

The doctor sighed, resigned.

"It's the only option we have. In the meantime, anyone with a fever must be bathed in cold water. Also, place cold compresses on their foreheads. It's crucial to try and reduce their body temperature."

"Mother Superior," murmured Rosa, one of the youngest girls. "I've been feeling strange since this morning. My head hurts, and I feel a little dizzy."

The doctor moved quickly to place a hand on her forehead.

"She has a fever," he said instantly as he began packing up his instruments. "She needs to be isolated immediately. Separate her from the others."

"Doctor," Fátima asked with urgency, "is it possible for those of us who were vaccinated to still get sick?"

The man paused by the doorway.

"It's possible, especially if the vaccination was given years ago. But don't worry—if it happens, the symptoms will be much milder."

"Girls, leave the dormitory immediately," Immacolata ordered, her voice firm. Then she turned to Rosa.

"You stay here with me to look after Laraina," she instructed. Finally, she looked back at the doctor. "Thank you, doctor. I'll call for you again if anything changes. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Abbess," the man replied before departing.

Fátima led the younger girls out of the room.

It was then that Delilah realized why Laraina had been abandoned: her parents must have recognized the smallpox pustules and left her behind, unable to bear the thought of watching her... die.

"I'll go get the vaccines, Mother Superior," Delilah offered resolutely. "This is my fault."

Massimo, who had been listening quietly, immediately objected.

"Don't be ridiculous, Delilah. It's a long and exhausting trip. I'll go. I'll take one of the altar boys with me."

"Stay here and help look after the girls, Delilah," Immacolata agreed. "There's nothing for you to do in Rome."

For the first time since knowing Immacolata, Delilah detected a note of irritation in her voice.

"I know I made a mistake," Delilah admitted, ashamed. "But I want to fix it. I'll do whatever you ask, Sister."

Immacolata placed a gentle hand on Massimo's arm.

"Massimo, thank you for everything you do for us. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"I couldn't do any less," the priest replied humbly.

A small pang of jealousy struck Delilah. It was always him who received the praise. Perfect Massimo. He never made rash decisions, never acted impulsively, never put the girls or the sisters at risk with his recklessness. He always listened. He was wise.

She had meant well when she insisted on bringing Laraina to the orphanage, but it was foolish. How had she not realized?

The anger she felt toward herself made her eyes brim with tears.

"It wasn't your fault, Delilah," Massimo's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I would have done the exact same thing. Believe me."

Hearing his words, Delilah wanted nothing more than to collapse into his arms and cry. But instead, she simply wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.