Back in the Habit by Alice Loweecey Page A

to the circle, pointed to her own forehead, and pointed to the paper again.
    Sister Theresa entered, sporting a quilted flowery bathrobe and a typical case of veil-head.
    â€œSister Arnulf, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Sister Regina Coelis, I know she doesn’t mean to be a nuisance.”
    Sister Arnulf glanced at her babysitter and bent over Giulia. Her thin, wrinkled fingers patted Giulia’s cheeks, then her own. She touched Giulia’s forehead, then her own where she’d drawn the dark spot on the paper. Finally she circled her throat with one hand and pointed to the invisible mark with the other.
    Giulia held up both hands in a helpless gesture.
    Sister Arnulf made a frustrated noise. “Är du dum?”
    Sister Theresa put a hand on Sister Arnulf’s arm. “Säng—That means bed,” she said to Giulia.
    Sister Arnulf slapped the desk and the other two stared at her. The little nun’s body was tensed like she was ready for a fight. Then a moment later she relaxed and nodded at Sister Theresa.
    â€œSorry. She’s wandering even more this week.” She cinched her robe. “You’d never think such a sweet old lady bombed Nazi arms depots in World War Two, would you?”
    â€œNot in a hundred years. I didn’t know there was a Swedish resistance in the war.”
    â€œPoor little Sister Bridget told me about it. They were sort of an adjunct to the Norwegian resistance. But if even half the stories she told Sister Bridget were true, our friend here was once a force to be reckoned with.”
    â€œAre you saying she flew bombers?”
    â€œNo, no. She was barely fifteen then. She and her school friends became pipe bomb experts.”
    Sister Arnulf looked at them with her head slightly tilted. Giulia was reminded of a cat trying to anticipate a bird’s next move.
    Giulia stuffed the pencil sketch in her empty pocket. “Good night, Sisters.”
    Sister Arnulf nodded when the paper disappeared. Giulia stared after them until the high crown of the older Sister’s veil disappeared down the staircase.
    â€œFirst thing tomorrow I’m texting Sidney with another set of basic Swedish phrases.”
    Her plans scattered when she opened her door. Someone had searched her room.

Fourteen
    â€œFabian, you underhanded—” Giulia stopped herself before the curse left her tongue. “It can’t be anyone else but her. No one else knows why I’m here. No one else cares.”
    She closed the door. “Shut up, Falcone. One, you’re talking to yourself. Two, these walls are laughably thin. Three, most of them are sleeping and without other sound to mask it, your voice will carry even easier.”
    She yanked and tugged the stuck top drawer of the desk until it straightened on its worn track. “Fabian’s a Scooby-Doo level sleuth if she leaves clues this obvious. Everyone knows these drawers stick on their runners until you learn the trick to them. Everyone except Fabian with her fancy furniture. ”
    The folder about Sister Bridget was on the opposite side of the drawer now. Giulia opened it to a crinkled top page.
    â€œToo bad for her I’d only written up one spreadsheet’s worth of notes.” She turned over each page. Two more were wrinkled. “Nothing’s missing …” She catalogued her memories of each page. “Right. It’s all there. Thank the Lord I keep my cell in my pocket.” She smirked. “And that I didn’t bring the Cosmo .”
    She turned in place and opened her dresser drawer.
    â€œIck. She pawed my underwear.” A giggle bubbled up. “If only I could ask her what she thinks of the lace and bright colors. So inappropriate for a Sister of Saint Francis, don’t you know.”
    She crept to the door and inched it open. Every other room on the floor was dark, but that meant nothing. She closed herself back in and texted Frank.
    Room