Anomaly

"Boheng? What are you doing here—"

Before Sister Gurdin could finish speaking, she saw the answer—spread out beside Boheng and Hesta were many sheets of old newspapers.

"Miss Gurdin…" Boheng's face turned pale for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

He used his body to shield his scrapbook and quietly pushed it towards Hesta behind him.

Hesta quickly understood. She calmly took the book, haphazardly wrapped it with asbestos cloth, and stuffed it under the iron cage.

"I always thought you were a good child…" Sister Gurdin's face turned ashen, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. "You dare—you dare—"

"Please don't be angry, Miss Gurdin," Boheng said, standing up abruptly to draw the nun's attention.

The nun casually picked up a newspaper and flung it at Boheng. The paper made a terrifying rustling sound, and the nun roared in anger, "Do you remember why I told you not to look at these things?"

Boheng: "Because… we are not yet capable of discerning right from wrong. Contacting these distracting external messages at this time would complicate our thoughts, making us… more prone to straying from the path, and more susceptible to the Chelation Disease."

Hesta also stood up: "Miss Gurdin, I was hungry so I asked Boheng to bring me some food. And I've always wanted to hear stories from the outside, so this time…"

"Enough! I don't believe your nonsense anymore."

A rush of blood went to Sister Gurdin's head, and everything in front of her seemed to turn green. She had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. Boheng quickly stepped forward to steady the nun's arm.

After a while, Sister Gurdin felt a little better. Her gaze swept over the newspapers on the floor again. It was only then that she noticed many of the papers had square-shaped gaps—obvious signs of being cut out.

Sister Gurdin's brow furrowed deeply: "What are you doing? Making a scrapbook?"

"I…"

"Where are the things you cut out? Where did they go?"

"…I'm sorry." Boheng lowered his head, but did not answer the question directly—nor could he have answered it voluntarily.

Sister Gurdin became angry again, but this time she didn't yell at Boheng. Instead, her voice trembling, she murmured a confession towards the window.

After finishing her confession, she first took the key from Boheng's neck, then grabbed the youth by the back of his collar with one hand, shoved him into the iron cage where Hesta had been kept, and locked it securely without hesitation.

"I'll deal with you later…" With that, the nun's gaze turned coldly towards Hesta. "Hesta, come here."

Hesta instinctively took a step back. "…I should be punished along with Boheng, Miss Gurdin."

"Do you think you can escape? We'll talk about punishment later!" Sister Gurdin said sternly. "The Director heard about what happened today from someone, and she wants to speak with you personally—you're coming with me to the Director's rest room now!"

Hesta visibly froze. "…Now? Right now?"

"Yes, right now."

Hesta glanced at Boheng—this was good news. At least the Director wouldn't be as unreasonable as Sister Gurdin. Besides, if she could talk to the Director about Boheng's situation now, perhaps the elder could even put in a good word with Sister Gurdin…

"Stop dawdling!"

Hesta didn't linger. She followed Sister Gurdin towards Director Elma's rest room.

Director Elma was the oldest person at Saint Anne Abbey. She and Miss Gurdin were like the gentle mother and the strict mother of the abbey. Whenever the children were ordered to be punished by Miss Gurdin for various wrongdoings, Director Elma would find ways to lessen the children's suffering.

However, about a month ago, the old Director had accidentally fallen in the cellar and broken both her hands. Therefore, Miss Gurdin had been in charge of everything this month.

Without Director Elma's protection, everyone lived in constant fear.

As they neared the rest room, Sister Gurdin's steps suddenly slowed. She looked back at Hesta, "The Director is still recuperating, so you are not allowed to mention tonight's incident with Boheng to her—if you have any conscience at all, don't let her worry about you anymore!"

"…Alright, Miss Gurdin," Hesta replied softly. She could sense Sister Gurdin's suppressed sobs and her reddened eyes—the nun must be feeling sad for the Director right now.

Neither of them spoke again until they arrived in front of the Director's rest room.

"Director Elma needs good sleep now," Sister Gurdin reminded her again. "I'll wait for you here. Don't stay inside too long; come out as soon as you're done."

"Okay," Hesta breathed a slight sigh of relief—as long as Sister Gurdin didn't go in with her, she could speak with the Director in private.

Hesta bowed to Sister Gurdin, turned, and pushed open the door, stepping into the rest room.

This rest room also served as the Director's office. The elder lived and worked here, and Hesta was very familiar with the place.

However, today, as soon as she entered, she smelled a faint, putrid odor. She quickly walked to the wall and opened the window for fresh air—the windows here were always open, but tonight they were tightly shut.

The rest room was unlit, illuminated only by a dim white candle, as in the Middle Ages. The soft glow of the flame outlined the room's furnishings. Hesta saw a stack of documents on the desk by the window, weighed down by a dried-up ink pen, its nib and body covered in dust, looking as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

Hesta picked up the pen, carefully wiped it with her clothes, then replaced the cap and put it back into the pen holder.

A familiar voice came from the bed not far away, "Jane? Is that you?"

Hesta immediately turned around and replied, "It's me, Director."

The candlelight by the bed illuminated the bed curtains, behind which Director Elma's shadow faintly appeared.

"Come over here."

Hesta immediately trotted over. She looked at the Director behind the curtain and, remembering her weak voice from earlier, felt a sudden pang of emotion.

"You've caused trouble again," the elder's voice held a hint of amusement. "I heard about what happened today from Flosang, so I asked Miss Gurdin to call you over… Did you want to eat that squirrel?"

Hesta's face instantly flushed red. She lowered her head and looked at her toes. Although she had many things she wanted to say, she couldn't utter a single word.

A laugh came from behind the curtain. "It's alright, Jane."

"I know it's wrong," Hesta said softly. "It won't happen again."

"No, no, no… Jane, you are right," Director Elma's voice trembled slightly, as old voices often do. "Squirrels… are very delicious."

For a moment, Hesta thought she had misheard, until a bandaged hand emerged from the bed curtains. It was spread out before Hesta's eyes – a rotten blood rat lay prominently in the old woman's palm.

Through a gap in the lifted bed curtains, Hesta finally realized the source of the foul stench in the room. Director Elma's bed was piled high with the skins of dead squirrels, and she sat there, covered in blood, amidst this stinking, decaying mountain of flesh.

Beneath the bed curtains, an old woman's pale and gaunt face slowly drew closer. She was extremely thin, but her eyes were more bulging than ever before.

At that moment, the inhuman face revealed a benevolent smile once more.

"If you want to eat it, then eat it, right now... I'll watch you eat."