Connecting Dots (5)

As I unfold the letter, my eyes immediately catch on the signature at the bottom - it's from the old nun I met at the church.

The letter is a mixture of gentle persistence and barely concealed desperation. The nun writes of the church's open doors, of a standing invitation for my grandmother to visit. It's clear from the tone that this isn't the first such letter - there have been others, all seemingly unanswered.

But why? Why is this nun so eager for my grandmother to visit? And why has my grandmother been ignoring these pleas?

I fold the letter carefully, slipping it into my pocket. There's only one way to get answers - I need to ask my grandmother directly. But it'll have to wait until morning.

I settle into one of the chairs, prepared for an uncomfortable night.

The soft sounds of my grandmother moving about the kitchen wake me. Sunlight is just beginning to filter through the windows as she spots me.