She sat down with the Priest, from her childhood parish. When she began the process of taking her vows, they asked her if there was any parish she would prefer to be sent. She chose the convent where she had grown up, schooled by the nuns as a child. There was only one abbess there now. The rectory still had a few priests, so she spent most of her time there, volunteering and cleaning. The parish was much smaller now, empty on some days, but they still said the Mass daily. ‘In case any lost sheep ever wander in, ‘tis our duty,’ said Father Johnny, the new pastor from overseas.
It was after Mass. She sat across from Father Tim, the priest she knew best. ‘Father,’ she asked, I don’t mean to impress, but, the diocese asked me to begin checking the books. They saw new spending curvatures in their charts here, and they said they didn’t see the reasoning for the new statues. I don’t mean to question your faculty, or abilities, it’s just,’ she leaned in closer to whisper. ‘I have to tell them something, they’re expecting an answer.’
He looked at the fork folded in his hand, tucked in his sleeve. ‘Tell them there was vandalism. For now,’ he said. ‘I want to see how they will respond.’
She nodded, clearing his plates and bringing them toward the kitchen.