Chapter 1

It was rare for Catholic schools in current times to have nuns as school teachers, but the Wings of Angels Catholic High School was not an ordinary school. The small farming community in the midwestern part of the United States had been founded by Irish Catholic settlers in the late 1800s, and the Catholic church had seen it as an opportunity, a place where it could get a footing in the dominantly Protestant country. The Church had hoped to expand its influence to the neighboring towns and then the state and finally the entire country. So it invested heavily in a church, convent, and three schools. A coed elementary and two high schools, one for boys and one for girls. The nuns from the convent served as the school teachers. There was one priest who resided in the small private living quarters next to the church. The Church’s dream of spreading its influence had failed, but over a century later the convent and schools survived, as did their influence on the town and children in their care.

The young nun sat behind her large oak desk at the Wings of Angels Catholic High School for girls. Sister Gabrielle’s elbows rested on the desktop with her fingers steepled under her chin as she watched her fifteen- and sixteen-year-old students take the English exam. Looking from girl to girl, Sister Gabrielle recalled when, only seven years ago, she had been that age. Back then, she had been so unsure of everything except that she loved God and wanted to serve Him. Unlike these girls, she had grown up elsewhere and had gone to a coed high school with all the insecurities and awkwardness of being around boys during puberty. Not that she had been attracted to them like the girls who had flaunted their bodies. At least that was one problem these girls didn’t have to deal with. No boys in their classes or the hallways. They could focus on their studies without the distraction of a love interest.

As Sister Gabrielle’s eyes roamed the classroom, they stopped under Caitlin Callahan’s desk, at the girl’s calf-high white cotton socks and dark blue plaid skirt. That was what all the girls wore, along with the white button-down blouse, so it wasn’t Caitlin’s clothing that caught her attention. It was the girl’s carelessly spread knees showing the white cotton panties molded to her young vulva. The panties were so visible that the damp stain on the crotch showed. Sister Gabrielle made a mental note to talk to Caitlin after class. Not to scold her, but to remind her that girls needed to be more careful when wearing a skirt. Modesty was godly. And also to remind her of the importance of planning ahead, like using the toilet before class started. While staring, the dark spot grew a little larger. Sister Gabrielle’s eyes shot to Caitlin’s face. It was scrunched with her lips pressed together. The discussion would have to wait. Caitlin would need to leave the classroom as soon as the period ended.

Sister Gabrielle’s attention was diverted two desks to the right when Cara Doyle slapped both hands over her face. The pen locked between two fingers threatened to leave a mark on her forehead. Sister Gabrielle’s eyes automatically glanced under the young girl’s desk. Her legs were together and tilted to the side. Cara knew how to sit when wearing a skirt. Not all girls were as immodest as Caitlin Callahan.

Sister Gabrielle glanced at the big round clock high on the back wall, white with black numbers and arms, plain and unassuming like her. Had Cara already finished the exam? She couldn’t have. She was smart and an exceptional student, but she couldn’t have finished the test that quickly. What was the matter with the girl? Was she ill?

With her palms flat on the desk and the large cross swaying from her neck as she leaned forward, Sister Gabrielle was rising from the chair when Cara’s hands slid off her face. Sister Gabrielle plopped back down, but her heart went out to the girl. Cara looked so sad. Was she having trouble with the test? It wasn’t that hard. A refresh of grammar in preparation for the essay soon to be assigned. Material that she had previously learned. And knew.

But Cara didn’t return to taking the exam. She stared straight ahead. Sister Gabrielle automatically looked over her shoulder to see what the girl was looking at. The white board had nothing on it. She looked back at Cara who had a faraway look. Maybe she was thinking about a test question, trying to remember the answer. Sister Gabrielle’s hand flew to her chest and she suppressed her gasp. A single tear rolled down Cara’s right cheek. The girl swiped it away before returning to her exam.

Sister Gabrielle continued watching her students. They were known to cheat, even though her black and white habit and the ruler always visible on her desktop were intimidating. Not that she had ever used the ruler like other Sisters. But her eyes continued to return to Cara. She looked so sad and more times than not she stopped writing to gaze blankly into space. Occasionally when Sister Gabrielle looked at her, she caught Cara staring at her. The girl quickly lowered her head and concentrated on her exam.