English Version: Sands & Sparrow

24

A black car stopped in front of the church, its old structures exuding an ambiance of serenity. The chauffeur descended and opened the door. Margo Sinclair alighted from the car. The stairs leading to the church awaited her as a gentle breeze touched her face. She surveyed the surroundings before entering the church. Along the street, stalls selling fruits, vegetables, and flowers were spaced out appropriately. The neighborhood was tidy, reminiscent of a European town, with old houses, buildings, and the abbey dating back to the Spanish era.

Margo observed the house of God; it was majestic, with a gigantic bell hanging above. The church doors, inspired by the medieval period, were wooden. In front of the church stood a statue of an angel in the center of a fountain, a replica from Portugal, making the place resemble a miniature Vatican. Walking on the mortar pavement, she disturbed a flock of pigeons, sending them into disarray as she approached. The sky was turning red as the sunset hues spread across the horizon. At the church entrance, a blind gypsy sang, her voice harmonizing with a unique sitar played in sync with the wind. Named Sybil, she made it her habit to serenade the wind, soothing her old soul with the melody.

An old nun patiently awaited Margo; she was a seventy-year-old Spanish nun with light-brown eyes, tanned skin, average height, and a slim build. Her hair had turned grey. She radiated a warm aura and could easily gain someone's trust with her sincere smile. "Buenas Tardes, Señorita Sinclair." [ "Good Afternoon, Miss Sinclair." ] Her crisp Spanish accent made each word firm yet easily understood.

Margo responded with a smile. "Cómo está, Hermana Clara? Estoy feliz de visitarla." ["How are you, Sister Clara? I'm happy to visit you."]

"I'm glad you came, Miss Sinclair."

The heavy oak doors swung open, their sound echoing through the empty church. Their footsteps resonated on the pavement, birds flew across the ceiling, and stained-glass windows cast sunlight into the interior, creating brilliant reflections on the floor. The effigies, made from alabaster, were inspired by the architectures of cathedrals in France, Barcelona, and England, all bearing a visible touch of classical influence.

"How are they doing?" Margo inquired of Sister Clara as their steps echoed down the hallway.

She smiled warmly. "They are doing well...Miss Sinclair, they have forgotten their past and the children are happy."

Sister Clara's role was to take care of the survivors, especially the victims of child trafficking. After their memories were erased, they were protected by the church and encouraged to begin a new life. She knew Margo for a long time. The nun herself was a survivor of the sex trade. Just like Dr. Howard, her passion lay in rescuing and caring for the children. Sister Clara never hesitated; she always completed the job. The eternal Queen seemed to have the talent for choosing the right person for a task; Margo possessed an innate judgment for certain people.

Together, they headed to a garden within the monastery and sat on a bench.

"The children will be happy to see you, Señorita Sinclair," Clara's English accent placed a slight stress at the end of her words, producing an indistinct blur and a unique sound.

"I won't be long... Sister Clara." Margo briefly nodded her head with a smile.

They observed the butterflies fluttering around the garden, their wings gently stirring the air as they swooped from one colorful flower to another. The branches swayed in the trees, and the rustling leaves composed a distinctive melody of nature.

"The children whom you are protecting, do you ever question the existence of God?" Margo gazed at the leaves falling lightly from the trees. "It saddens me, no matter how desperately I protect the beauty of the flowers from chaos; I cannot keep the dark clouds from coming," Her green eyes watched the children playing happily around the garden.