Page 55 of Star Crossed Delta

A small group of nuns stood in a cluster, their faces obscured by the shadows of an immense tree. They huddled together, their voices a murmur against the reverent atmosphere.

They passed them, and they fell silent, eyes on their progress.

They headed towards a petite chapel at the end of the open space.

The shimagele paused at the heavy frosted door. ‘She’s inside. Praying. I suggest you join her first in prayer before you speak with her.’

She opened the door, and a wave of incense and candle wax hung in the air, a reminder of the constant devotional practices in the sanctuary.

The sun’s rays illuminated the interior through the dome-shaped stained glass windows, casting dancing patterns on the stone walls.

The room was austere and straightforward, with only a scattering of altars and a basic wooden cross embellishing it.

At the center was a figure cloaked in simplicity, sitting in intense prayer.

Her head was bowed, a lean through her shoulders.

Shiloh and Saba stood together; their presence was felt but not acknowledged.

After a few minutes, she raised her head, lifted her veil, and gazed at them.

‘Suri?’ Saba whispered to her.

The woman before them was no longer the beautiful, youthful girl Saba remembered.

Her face was gaunt, her skin pale and wrinkled.

The deep grooves appeared etched, and her eyes seemed hollow, the vibrant blue now dull and tired.

Her habit was loose and ill-fitting as if she had lost weight.

She sat in a hunched position, her posture weakened and frail.

Time had worn her away like the tide wore at the shore, leaving behind a different spirit, a faded painting once colorful and full of life, now muted and threadbare.

Shiloh’s hand trembled in Saba’s as they stared, too.

The woman blinked. ‘Who are you?’

Her inflection was soft and gentle.

They exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. Saba took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts in this solemn place.

‘We’re your sisters, Suri,’ Saba began, her voice wavering. ‘Saba and Shiloh.’

Suri’s eyes widened, and a flicker crossed her face for the briefest moment before being replaced by a look of profound sadness and confusion.

‘I am so sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t recognize you, but I sense the love within you.’

‘We’ve come a long way to visit you,’ Shiloh said, taking a step forward and dragging Saba with her.

Suri gave them a tremulous smile.

With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch their faces.

‘Sante,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll add you to my daily prayers.’

That’s when they realized the woman they were once acquainted with was not with them.

Her essence, her spirit, and personality were gone.

Saba and Shiloh exchanged glances, their hearts shredding with pain.

The door to the chapel opened, and Shima Kemisa stepped back in.

‘ ?arim ,’ she said soothingly. ‘As you can observe, your older sister has suffered an affliction of the mind.’

‘For how long?’

Saba’s voice was sharp and ragged, a wretched cry that rent the chapel’s quiet.

‘Years now,’ the luminary offered with a sad dip of her head.

‘Her soul was never meant for the wider world and the shadows outside our walls. Unable to bear the burden of its darkness, she has retreated. I believe she may have already had early-onset dementia in her twenties, which might explain her behavior then.’

Shiloh and Saba looked at each other, disbelieving.

‘How can this be?’ Saba said, swallowing back the lump in her throat. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell us? All our Uncle said was that she didn’t want to see us at all.’

The nun pursed her lips in displeasure. ‘It would seem that your uncle kept Suri’s state from you. From everyone, he didn’t want the world to view her like this,’ she added.

‘You mean he was ashamed?’

She lowered her eyes.

Damn, Saba’s words had hit a nerve.

‘Does she have any moments of lucidity?’ she asked in hope.

Kemisa’s eyes clouded further. ‘ Nada . She can’t understand who you are, nor does she carry any memories from the past.’

‘Any treatment?’ Shiloh said, her voice trembling with emotion.

The Shima shook her head again, her gaze never leaving Suri’s frail form. ‘You should realize that her affliction has irrevocably altered her mind. She has forgotten not only the world outside but also her former life. It is cruel, but tis the reality we must accept.’

Suri’s stare drifted away, her eyes unfocused, adrift in a reality only she could perceive.

An unimaginable grief hit Saba for the sibling they’d lost and what might have been.

‘What can we do for her?’ Saba asked, looking at Shiloh and then at Shima Kemisa. ‘Do we have any hope for her recovery?’

The luminary sighed, her expression somber. ‘There is no cure for her affliction. The best we can do is provide her with a safe and peaceful environment in which to spend her remaining days in comfort and solitude. It is the only way to protect her from her dark thoughts.’

Saba took a deep breath, trying to process everything she’d just learned.

Suri, the vivacious and caring older sister, was long gone. In her place was a fragile, lost soul, a shell, a mere echo of her former self.

Without warning, she wrapped her hands around herself and began keening in a low groan, rocking back and forth.

‘Oh my,’ Shiloh murmured in distress. ‘What’s wrong?’

The nun pursed her lips. ‘Your visit might have awakened her memories of the world outside. We must take her back to her quarters now, where she will be safer and more at ease. You may return to call on her, but remember that she will never know who you are, no matter how often you come.’

‘That’s not the point. We know who she is, and we’ll keep her memories alive and keep visiting, now that we know where she is.’

‘Tis your decision, ?arim ,’ the Shima said with a tight smile.

‘Indeed it is,’ Saba snapped.

Twas clear they were muddying the waters, but she didn’t give a fokk .

It was their sister, and they’d been wrenched from her for too long.

Shima Kemisa turned to Suri and extended a hand, which Shiloh took.

She stood slowly, shaking her veil back into place.

Their eyes followed their sister’s frail figure as she leaned on her fellow Shima and shuffled towards the chapel door.

Her steps were uneven, her face etched with lines of pain and confusion.

They were silent observers, helpless in the face of this heartbreaking truth.

‘You may let yourselves out by going back the way we came in,’ the shimagele said before the pair disappeared outside.

They exited in their wake and lingered in the courtyard again, sorrow, regret, and guilt hitting hard.

Their hearts ached for Suri, for what she had lost, and for what had been snatched from them, not just in years but in shared experiences.

They exchanged a sorrowful glance, and Shiloh squeezed Saba’s hand.

‘We’ll be back,’ Saba said, her voice breaking. ‘Also, we’ll do everything we can to help her.’

Shiloh nodded, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. ‘I just can’t believe how different she is now, how bereft she is.’

‘It’ll take a hell of a lot of patience, understanding, and perhaps a small measure of self-control not to raze down this entire flotilla and tear apart Tewa and Sylvana,’ Saba snarled.

‘The thought of her being disoriented in her mind, unable to remember who we are, burns my soul,’ Shiloh sobbed.

‘Mine too,’ Saba said through gritted teeth.

Shiloh and Saba hugged, hearts aching as they realized that their family unit had once again been decimated, and now all they had was each other.

They stood at that spot for a long time, seeking comfort in their shared bond as the courtyard fountain’s water shimmered around them and fell like diamonds in the sunlight.

Still, the birds continued to sing their sweet song, oblivious to the sisters’ agony.

After many minutes, they left the terrace and walked to the reception.

Saba paused at the entrance, where a small sign with a digitized code stated where donations could be sent.

Shiloh nodded as Saba swiped her device and transferred a generous amount of money to the convent.

She, too, pulled out her wrist comm and did the same.

They exchanged glances, and Shiloh’s hand found Saba’s again, her fingers intertwining in a tight clasp.

‘Let’s go,’ Shiloh said, her voice trembling with emotion.

The doors of the heritage building closed with a slow thud.

Shiloh and Saba took deep breaths, wrapped their arms around each other, and stared at the beautiful scene that belied the tragedy behind the cloistered gates.

The image stayed with them as they returned home.

They kept their hands clasped together in the back of the flyer.

Joined by grief for a life lost, a mind fissured, and a soul sacrificed to delirium.