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Little Sisters of Hope.”
    “What do you hope for?”
    Mother Helena smiled, and her face transformed. “Right now, I hope you will come to feel like this is your home and we are people you can trust.”
    Once out of the common room, they moved through a kitchen and then into a narrow room where various pairs of galoshes were lined up against a wall and overcoats hung from pegs. Mother Helena pointed through the window on the far side of the room.
    “We have a large garden we all tend to,” she said. “And presently, we are in the process of adding on to the existing structure. Well, you saw that firsthand now yesterday, didn’t you?”
    The girl nodded. “There is a lot of pounding.”
    “Yes, lass, and I might as well be warning you now, you’ll be hearing it morning, noon, and night until we get the place completed.”
    “Because you need a bigger house?”
    “Because we’re going to open an orphanage soon and need more room to accommodate the children who will be coming here. We will be a place for children who have lost their parents and have no one else to take care of them,” Mother Helena explained. “Even though your circumstances are a bit different, they are like you.”
    “I’m not a child,” the girl protested.
    “As a wise man reminded me, you are a child of God, lass. If you don’t remember anything else—remember that.”
    Moving through the house on the heels of Mother Helena, the girl met the sisters she would be living among. Engaged in various activities, each one stopped, glanced at the young woman in the dirty trousers and shirt, and nodded her greeting.
    By the fourth sister she met, she detected a pattern. “All their names start with Mary,” she said.
    Mother Helena smiled. “Yes, at least almost all of them start with Mary. We have Sister Mary Agnes, Mary Gertrude, Mary Margaret, Mary Martha, Mary Ruth, Mary Constance, Mary Sarah, Mary Rachel, Mary Rebecca, and Mary Marie.”
    “But you are not Mary? You are Mother?”
    “I am Sister Mary Helena,” she explained, “but because of my position in the convent, the others refer to me as Mother. Deirdre and Oona are the other inhabitants of the house. They are called postulants—beginning nuns, if you will. They spend about a year with the community, studying and learning, and at the end of that time, they reconsider if they really have been called to this holy way of life.”
    They arrived back at the small bedroom she’d slept in, and Mother Helena led her inside. “We let you have the room to yourself last night, but I’m afraid that isn’t a luxury we can continue. Tonight, Oona and Deirdre will be back in the room with you.”
    Another sister appeared in the doorway, carrying a bundle of clothes. Sister Agnes had lively blue eyes, and her fair skin had a generous dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her face looked far less serious than her habit.
    “Here they are, Mother,” she said, handing off the clothes and offering a quick smile at their guest.
    “Thank you, Sister Agnes.”
    Sister Agnes disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the two of them alone again.
    “Can we discuss your clothes?” Mother Helena asked.
    The girl offered a small shrug.
    Mother Helena pushed on. “Abe tells me that you were found wearing that shirt—those trousers.”
    “He tells me the same thing.”
    “And you don’t know why?”
    “I know you’re not supposed to go around naked,” she said. “I suppose that’s why.”
    “Well, that’s true,” Mother Helena answered with a smile. “I meant do you have any idea why you would be wearing clothing meant for a man?”
    “No. Doc kept asking me that too, but I don’t see why it matters so much.”
    “Clothing is a uniquely human characteristic. It’s a way to communicate to people who we are and what we value.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    Mother Helena unfurled a simple blue dress from the pile of clothes in her arms. “What we wear usually